Until the Very End (CielxSebastian)
by Ciel.UntiltheVeryEnd
Summary: Two men... no, a man and a boy. Worse yet, a demon and his contract. Could a love be more forbidden? But these star-crossed lovers are too busy denying their feelings for each other and playing games of dominance, trying to see who will be on top, that no one has actually yet been on top. Find out which means more: lust or love, pride or passion, a heart, or a soul. (See profile)
1. Chapter One: His Butler, Comforting

**Until the Very End**

A Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler Fan-Fiction

**Note from the Authors: **

_We have put a ton of work into this fan-fiction, so thank you for taking time to read it. We love and appreciate comments and thoughts, so please, let us know your feelings.  
_

**Disclaimers:**

_We do not own or have the rights to Black Butler, or the characters therein. Furthermore, while we appreciate constructive criticism, this is a FAN-FICTION, and while we will be sticking to parts of the manga and anime, the story is comprised mostly of original content. Please refrain from bashing the authors with unkind comments such as "It didn't happen that way" or "You know nothing about Kuro". There ARE differences in this story. While a good bit of it will be set within Seasons 1 & 2 of the anime, we picture some things differently for our story's sake. We picture Young Master Ciel to be about fifteen, rather than 12/13. However, if it makes you feel better, picture him as young or old as you want. This Fan-Fiction, while currently rated 14+ WILL go up to a mature rating. There will be fluff. There will be sex. If that isn't your cup of tea, then I invite you to refrain from reading._ _Other than that, there are various plot twists from the anime and manga we will alter to our liking. Again, this is a fan-fiction. We are not the original manga author, or the anime director. We are exercising our creativity as writers, and altering as we see fit. We think you will love it. So, with open minds, and open hearts...our story begins, with a single black feather._

**Chapter One: His Butler, Comforting**

Act I: His Master, Dreaming

My name is Earl Ciel Phantomhive. I am the heir to the esteemed Phantomhives of London, owner of the Funtom company, and watchdog to her majesty, Queen Victoria. In my manor, I'm known as the young master...but, I never feel young. Most people say it's because I've seen too much. Perhaps they're right. In my brief existence, I've seen almost every sense of happiness fade, and elude me. I have no parents. I did once, when I was happy, naive. Such a foolish way to behave...as though maybe the world was going to play the game of life fairly. A ridiculous notion.

I'm talking to myself again, aren't I? Perhaps silence is where I'm best understood...without hollow eyes watching me. But, understood or not, I dread sleeping at night. There's seldom a night that passes that I wake refreshed. Well, that is, if I really sleep at all. This dream is going to slip soon, I can feel it, and with it, the security that I find in the brief moments of silence. I wonder which it will be this time.

Where was I? I don't remember what was...

Fire. It burns. Their faces, charred and broken. I open my mouth to scream but force it down. I'm too proud to show pain. Pain is weakness, a trait I can scarcely afford. No. Push it away, Ciel.

Then come the hands. This is the part I dread, my body bruised and naked. Humiliation stings my cheeks as they hold me down. I try to fight, but I'm so weak, a broken fragment of a boy. I can hear the metal and I know what's coming next. I grit my teeth. Searing pain, utter agony. Death is knocking, calling and beckoning for me. Again, my pride shows; but, it hurts more to struggle anyway.

I can't do it on my own. I feel my scream breaking my chest, ripping me into pieces. Help me. "Please!" I'm resorted to begging, a humiliation I can't stand...worse than their hands and branding irons.

"Young master."

My body goes rigid. That voice. I've heard it before. It sends my heart spiraling, my head whirling. I am dizzy. Am I ill? Everything goes dark. Is it over? Am I dying? Or, am I blacking out to be awoken in some other horrible method. It's ebony, not enough light for the slightest shadow. Still, my body shakes, quivering in pain, anguish, hurt, and anger; and, I'm searching...desperately, frantically.

Fire. I'm burning again. That voice...it belongs to..."Sebastian!" I cry out. Why won't he come? "Save me, Sebastian!"

"I'm here, my lord."

Peace. Wings. I feel warm, and soft wings envelop me...most unlike my demon butler. I feel safe. The fire's gone, the pain eliminated.

"I'm here, young master." All fades to black.

"It's over, /Ciel/."

I snap awake. I'm pouring sweat, sticking to the fine fabric of my nightshirt, my hair clinging to my face just as I'd wanted to cling so desperately to...no.

I sit up in the dismal black of my room, trying to return my heart to its normal rate, rather than the thunderous drum its become. I can scarcely breathe. Nightmares render me that way sometimes.

Yet, it isn't the nightmare that has me so perturbed. It's him. Sebastian. I pull back my covers to pace my room, and that's when I find it. A black feather. I can't help but cling to it. It's all well and fine in the solitude of my room, the dark of the night; but, in the morning, he's just my butler...and these feelings have no place anywhere but the elusive land of dreams.

Safe...warm...loved...in the arms of my demon...how ridiculous.

The feather turns beneath my fingers...soft, and gentle. How had it gotten there? My door creaks open...the drumming of my heart returns, ringing in my ears as I shove the feather in my nightstand drawer, beneath whatever else was in there. Only one person would be awake at this hour.

Act I, Part II: His Butler, Revealing

I could recognize the sound of my young master's frightened screams anywhere. Almost instantly, I rushed into his room closing the door softly behind me. He was thrashing wildly in bed, screaming, "NO! GET OFF OF ME! STOP! PLEASE!"

"Young master," I called softly, shaking his shoulder, gently, "It's just a dream. You need to wake up."

His screams are almost inhuman. In fact, I've heard inhuman things sound more human than this. A few feathers land on the bed, and I realize my true form is revealing itself on its own. Something sinister stirs inside of me at the sound of these screams. I want names for the hands that chose to violate my young lord. I want to hear bones break, feel flesh tear, see blood pool.  
I set the candelabra on the nightstand, before picking up the feathers. My young master has asthma, how careless of me. I throw the feathers out the window, swept away in the night breeze. I re-latch the window, a shudder runs up my spine at the sounds of those screams again. My form remains in tact this time as I sit on the edge of the bed beside him. His hair and nightshirt are damp with sweat. I have the urge to change his clothes, dab his forehead with a damp cloth. I'm snapped out of such thoughts by a new sound on his lips. "SEBASTIAN! SAVE ME! SEBASTIAN! PLEASE! SEBASTIAN!"  
Something twists inside of me that I couldn't save him, before it happened and even now from a land of nightmares I cannot reach to vanquish, but then again if somehow I had managed such a feat I wouldn't be here now. He wouldn't need his revenge. He wouldn't need me.  
I hold him in my arms and he fights violently against me, as if I were just one more faceless shadow with a branding iron. Another clench in my chest.

"I'm here, my lord, I've got you. I won't let anything happen to you. Not again. I will always save you. I will be by your side, until the very end."  
He relaxes in my arms for a moment, before wrapping his arms tightly around me. There are tears in his eyes and for a moment I think he has awaken from his nightmares, but his voice is still drowsy and his eyes are still shut tight as he says, " Sebastian? Stay with me. Sebastian, please, don't leave me."  
A different kind of clench in my chest. How peculiar. "Yes, I'm here. I'll always be here. It's over, Ciel."

Again my blood runs cold. I pull away with haste, picking up the candelabra, and walking out into the hall. For a moment I lean against the door. Did I just address my master informally? And worse, disobey an order? No. He hadn't said, 'this is an order.' Still…what the hell is wrong with me?  
I go to the kitchen and prepare a fresh pot of tea before I walk back into my master's bedroom. He's sitting up in bed and hurriedly shuts the drawer of his nightstand. "W-what are you doing here, Sebastian?"  
"I knew you weren't sleeping well so I took the liberty of preparing you a cup of tea. It's chamomile and lemongrass. It will help you sleep soundly."  
I hand him the cup and saucer. He takes a sip of the tea. He's staring at me for some reason, more so than usual, a different look in his eyes, almost…curious. Could he know of my informal address? Does he detest me for such lack of form?  
"Well? Are you going to stand there all night or can I go back to sleep?" Ciel demanded, taking another sip of his tea, obviously to his liking.  
"But of course, my lord. My apologies. I shall come back after awhile to retrieve your cup." I close the door behind me and head back to the kitchen. There is still so much to prepare for tomorrow, and I find my mind in desperate need of being occupied.


	2. Chapter Two: His Butler, Reminiscing

**Chapter Two: His Butler, Reminiscing**

Those words, they kept ringing in my ears as I tried to do my work late into the evening. _Sebastian, stay with me. Sebastian, please don't leave me._ The cup slips from my hands and shatters on the floor.

What the hell? I am never so careless, as if I were Mey-Rin, haphazardly breaking things. But my hands are shaking. I look at them, still covered in soapsuds from washing dishes. I don't bother drying them as I grab the broom and dust pan, sweep up the shards of glass, and throw them away. I grab a pen and notebook and add one cup to the ever growing Phantomhive shopping list, much of which is comprised of grass seed (to grow back the lawn after Finnian destroys it), wood (to rebuild the kitchen after Bard gets a hold of his flamethrower), a mass amount of dishes (that Mey-Rin is sure to break on a daily basis), and lots and lots of sugar (for baking the young master's mass amounts of sweets).

After washing, rinsing, and drying dishes, I begin the rest of my duties. Washing windows, cleaning drapes, dusting, sweeping, mopping, and polishing floors…yet still those words come to me. _Sebastian, stay with me. Sebastian, please don't leave me._ He sounded so desperate, as if my presence were the only thing keeping him safe. He hasn't sounded like that since…

_When I first came to the boy I could smell the blood and stench. The cult had branded him, violated him, tortured him, and left him in his own filth in a tiny cell. All in the attempts to purify him, cleanse him, yet they treat dogs with a kinder courtesy. They have the nerve to say demons are monsters? I'll never understand the twisted and distorted workings of the minds of humans. _

_ He was meant to be a sacrifice in an attempt to summon me. Foolish humans getting their hands on books that do not concern them, consumed by their own selfish greed, desperate to achieve their ends by any means. _

_ My sudden manifestation in my true form was met with mixed reviews. Some of the cult members cheered, some screamed, well most screamed. Usually, in cases like this it is only the insane leader of the cult and his closest loyalists, who ever show signs of pleasure to see me, especially in my demonic form. There was a time I would just grant whatever mindless goal they sought in exchange for the consumption of the entire cult's souls, a tasteless and dissatisfying feast, but a feast nonetheless. However, I had spent the last couple of centuries refining my palette. Here and now, being summoned by a few handfuls of stale and worthless crumbs, I smell something…mouthwatering. _

_ There was something intriguing about this soul. Unlike the unclean souls I'd had no choice but feasting upon for the past few centuries, this one smelled of ambrosia. Though he had been through unspeakable trials, everything wrenched away from his grasp and taken from him, his eyes heavy with tears still held a sense of pride. More than pride, he had a thirst for revenge, a will to live, a determined mind. Though his body was small and frail, his mind was inquisitive, his heart rather large though his grim expression armored it well, and his soul…it was an old soul, for someone so young, seasoned beyond his years by seeing too much and yet it remained pure. _

_ My dark aura envelopes the room and the cult freezes in place like idiotic statues. The boy, the one who's soul smells so utterly delicious, he lays naked in a cage on the floor, my symbol painted in blood beneath him. He was not the only sacrifice tonight. I notice the corpses of other children piled carelessly in a corner of the room._

_ I stay encased in the darkness, not wanting to frighten him like the other men. Too many times my very presence scares the nerve of striking a deal out of even the bravest of men, and I am far too hungry to let such a banquet elude me. _

"My you are a tiny master, aren't you?"

"Your master?" _The boy asks, feebly, though I see in his eyes that he understands the severity of what I call him. He knows well what I am, and what I propose. I laugh. This will most certainly be fun. _

"Well that depends on you, doesn't it? The choice is still yours to make. I cannot return to you what was lost. Do you wish to form a contract with me?"

_He thinks for a long moment, silently, fire dancing in tear-brimmed eyes. _

"Think carefully. Should you reject the faith even this once, the gates of paradise will forever be beyond your reach."

_His gaze snaps in my direction, almost as though he sees me through the darkness. He isn't afraid. _"Do you think one who is among the faithful would ever go so far as to make negotiations with someone like you?"

_I laugh. _"I'll ask but once more, do you wish to form a contract with me?"

"I do! Now stop asking these tedious questions and let me know if we have a deal."

"What do you require in return? What is your wish, tiny master?"

"I wish for the power to exact revenge upon those who did this to my family. I command you, demon, to protect me and never betray me until I achieve that revenge. You will obey me unconditionally, and you will never lie to me." _Had he thought of this before? What he would do were I actually summoned?_

_ Clever boy, most men are not wise enough to be so specific with their demands, making it much easier to twist their desires to my own will. Impressive. This shall make for an interesting game. _"You are quite greedy, for someone so young. What is your name, little master?"

"I am Ciel. Ciel Phantomhive. The one who will inherit the house of Earl Phantomhive."

"Well then, Earl Ciel Phantomhive, let me take on the appearance of someone worthy to be called a servant to your house, and we shall put a seal on our contract."_ I step into the dim moonlight coming from the barred window of the dungeon. I must take on a more human appearance, so as not to startle him. I know how he wants me to appear, I always know._

_ My feathered wings retract into my back, my pointed teeth and fangs disappear, the vertical slit pupils of my violet eyes have been replaced with a more human shape, though I like red for their color. Something must differentiate me from these worthless beings, lest I be mistaken as one of them. I know he finds this appearance reassuring somehow. _

_ I adorn the uniform of a proper butler, as per his requests of servitude. I bend the bars of his cage, so small that he cannot even sit up fully. I pull out his small naked, bruised and bleeding form. I offer him my hand to help him stand. _"The more visible the place of your seal, the stronger its power. Where would you-"

"Anywhere," _he says hurriedly_, "Anywhere is fine. I want a power greater than anyone else's."

"Greedy indeed," _I laugh_, "Very well then. I shall put the seal on your eye, pluck out the despair in it and give you the power to avenge your injustice." _As I touch his eye with the seal, he screams as it sears into him, branding him mine. _

_ The eyes are indeed windows to the soul, and yet, until now I have never put my seal on my prey's eye. Something that astonishes even me happens. I see glimpses into his past, his home, the parents he once had, their demise, his treatment at the hands of the cult. When we detach from one another I can't help but lick the remnants off of my thumb, savoring even the smallest taste of an exquisite soul the likes of which I have never come across._

_ I kneel. _"Our deal is made. I am now yours to use as you will. I will protect you and never betray you until you achieve your revenge. I will obey your orders unconditionally. I will never lie to you. My body and soul, down to the very last hair, are yours. So, what are your orders, little master?"

_ He answers without hesitation. No remorse or mercy in his tone, just an unquenchable anger. I can't help but smile. _"I want you to kill them all and burn this establishment to the ground. That is your order, demon."

"Yes, my lord. I shall return shortly. Wait right here."_ The members still frozen in place, no chance of retaliation, it takes only seconds to achieve an all too easy task. Even after seeing this small show of my true nature he is unwavering, still showing no signs of fear nor remorse. A curious little human indeed. _

"It is finished, my lord, save for the final task."_ I hold up a match, and light it._ "We'd best be off."

_I pick him up and carry him out of the vile church, already high in flames as I run through the forest carrying him. I feel his body easing in my arms, giving way to sleep. How odd that the only comfort he's found in weeks is in the arms of a demon. He is still asleep as we arrive at what was once his estate. Now a charred pile of rubbish that no one even had the respect to remove, leaving the dead so disgraced. _

_ I lay him on the ground as I set about my work, allowing him to sleep. Though I work diligently and precisely it does take a bit of time for me to accomplish the task at hand. I remember well from the small glimpse into his soul, every minute detail of the mansion, and rebuild it to the exact specifications of the original, down to the aging of the stones. _

_ I watch him carefully as I perform each task. He looks so peaceful. I pick him up and carry him to his room, where fresh clothes and linens await him. I've prepared a hot bowl of chicken noodle soup, fresh baked rolls, and a chocolate cake with whipped cream topping and shaved chocolate garnish, as well as a pot of Earl Grey tea. But first, I need to wash the blood and filth off of him, bandage his wounds. So I step through the bedroom and into the bathroom, a warm bath already drawn. It's taken me nearly two hours to complete all of this, and it's nearly dawn. He'll need much more sleep, but I don't want to throw him into shock by putting him into the bath without waking him first. _

"Little master, it is time to wake up."

"Where am I?" _he asks, rubbing sleep from exhausted eyes. _

"You are in the bathroom adjoining your room, in the Phantomhive Estate, of course."

"But…how…?" _he asks, jolting up, and regretting the decision as he winces in pain, still taking in his surroundings, _

"How, what, my lord?"_ I ask, knowing full well what his feeble question entails, but wanting to make him ask regardless. I deserve some form of respect and recognition, and I will pry it out of him by any trivial means necessary. _

"The manor. How did you…I mean, it was charred. Nothing remained, and yet here it is…everything just as it was. Every detail…how did you do it?"

_ I smile. _"I rebuilt it in a couple hours. If I couldn't do something this simple then how could I ever consider myself a butler to the house of Phantomhive? A demon, capable of powers beyond the comprehension of your tiny little mind finds it laughable that you think me incapable of such a mediocre task, my lord."

_ It takes a moment for him to regain his dignity,_ "Don't be so utterly ridiculous, demon."_ He looks thoughtful again, _"And don't do such careless things again."

"What ever do you mean, little master?"

"A manor does not simply reappear into the night. It will draw skepticism, of which I can scarcely afford."

"Alright then, young master. I will try to not be…ridiculous, as you say. I have also prepared you a bit of dinner, as I'm quite certain you are half starved. But first I have drawn you a bath to clean you up and bandage your wounds. Unless you would rather I left you dirty and allow sepsis to set in?"

_Without warning I set him down into the hot bath, and begin washing his hair gently. As the water becomes dingy with dirt and blood, the young master's cheeks become flushed. The murky water was only part of the reason for the next order. To this day, the young master cannot tolerate the heat in a hot bath,_ "Change the water. It's disgusting."

_His body shakes a bit, the heat getting to him as well as the realization of the humiliation he had been through, a stain that would remain for quite some time no matter how many baths and endless scrubbing ensued._

_ I change the water, taking an extra effort to make sure that the it is a few degrees cooler than the first bath and begin washing his hair once more. _"Is this more to your liking?"

_ He nods, finally relaxing a bit. _

_ Blood and filth isn't staining the water quite as fast this time, and he'd often enjoyed his baths before. Still, his stomach growls, impatiently._

_ I finish washing his hair, and begin taking a washcloth to his body. He tries so hard not to cry out at the numerous cuts from lash marks on his body, but the pain outweighs his pride, and hisses of agony fall from his lips. Some of the cuts have already started to close, still filled with dirt, already oozing puss. I will have to reopen them and clean them properly unless I want to risk an infection, maybe even an untimely death. _

"My apologies, my lord, this will be quite painful I am certain, but it is necessary. Please be patient with me." _I begin reopening the wounds, scraping away the puss and dirt. _

_ He screams out, clenching his teeth, the pain an ever constant battle with his pride. I finish wiping away fresh blood and come to the seared flesh of the brand, still so fresh on his back. I dab ever so gently at the mark. _

"STOP!" _Tears well up in his eyes. That mark, most painful, is also most damaging to his pride. There is no 'please', just a jump, almost out of the water entirely, water pooling around the tub as the tears stream down his face. _

"I am sorry, my lord. Here, if you'll permit me," _I hold the towel open for him, allowing him the decision as to whether or not I may wrap it around him. _"You really should go eat something before heading back to bed. You need to regain your strength."

_He looks me up and down for a moment, before staring at the towel blankly, _"What are you doing? Why are you just standing there?"

_ Permission granted I suppose. Such a condescending and pretentious child. What have I gotten myself into? No matter. A human life is such a small increment of time in the grand scheme of things, and I highly doubt it will take much of his human life to achieve his revenge. The bountiful feast of extraordinary excellence will be well worth such degradation. _

"Here you are my lord,"_ I say, helping him out of the bath and drying him with the towel. I take him to his bedroom and dress him. _

_ He sits on the edge of his bed, his eyes fluttering with tiredness at the mere feel of the soft feathered quilt beneath him. He looks at the food with longing, before picking up a fork. Chocolate first. _

_ Tonight I'll allow him such an indulgence, but he should really be eating something substantial before he loses his appetite. He lets out a long sigh after the first bite, and follows it directly with another. Surely an Earl, undoubtedly trained in manners, has been left without these delicacies for far too long, judging by the chocolate icing smearing the corners of his lips. I take a napkin and wipe off the icing before taking away the wiped clean plate. The boy, still licking chocolate off his fingers, as I hand him the tray with the bowl of chicken noodle soup, rolls, and Earl Grey. _

"Earl Grey,"_ he notices before even taking a sip, just the steam against his nose._ "What kind of a demon are you?" _He asks the question with an almost amusement. _

_ Again, I laugh at such oddly inquisitive questions, _"Your demon, my lord, of course. What a strange little master you are."

_He swallowed the Earl Grey contently, the smile quickly replaced by a frown, _"I'm not little," _he retorts. _

"My apologies, my lord, but I do believe you told me never to lie to you. Would you prefer I start deceiving you now and tell you that you are by no means little at all, or would you just prefer that I not make such comments in regards to your stature?"

_He sits the tea down on the tray again, brooding a bit,_ "I am Ciel Phantomhive, the head of this house, the heir of the previous Earl. I am, in that way, anything but little…" _he pauses, looking for a word, _"Demon," He shoves the tray away, most of the food remaining untouched.

"Very well then, young master. I shall take care of this. Perhaps tomorrow we will be able to put something other than sugar in that stomach of yours. Until then, you really need your rest."_ I put the tray back on the cart and wheel it to the door. _

"Wait, demon."

"Yes, my lord?"

"What is your name?"

"Whatever you wish my name to be, young master."

"Then... Sebastian,"_ he says, after a long moment of pause, _"From now on your name will be Sebastian."

"Well then, my lord, from now on call me Sebastian. Is that the name of your former butler?" "No. It was my dog's name."

_Anger swells in me at the thought of being named after such a wretched creature, one that follows its master so devotedly, lovingly, and happily, no matter if the owner is abusive and vulgar. Such a stupid animal will lick the hand that beats him with his dying breath, a meddlesome animal with no brain and far too much heart. _"I see then. Well you should really get some rest young master."

_The boy nods his agreement, sliding down into warm feathers and soft silk. His eyes remain open, sleep not finding him as easily this time. I wonder if sleep will find him again at all or if he will still be awake when I arrive with breakfast in the morning._

_ No less than an hour later, when dawn was approaching yet the sun had not quite risen, inhuman screams of terror fill the corridors. _

_ I approach his bedroom swiftly, but the sounds are coming from further down the hall. I arrive at the master bedroom and open the door to find him crouched on the floor beside his belated parents' bed, wrapped in a comforter, and shaking violently. He looks almost like a rabid animal, those screams far too loud to be coming from such small lungs. _

"Young master," _I call,_ "Are you still having some nightmare? You needn't be afraid. You are safe."

_He rocks back and forth propped up on the balls of his feet, unsteadily. His hands are clapped down over his ears drowning out all sound, even that of his own screaming. Sometimes consonants make their way into that wail of agony, but other than that, there are no discerning words._

_ I kneel down before him, covering both hands with my own and pulling them away from his face so he may hear. _"Young master, you are safe. You should really be in bed."

_He screams louder, his eyes growing wider, and he becomes even more animalistic as he begins thrashing, clawing, and kicking in a desperate attempt to shove me away, as if I am trying to attack him like one of those despicable cult members. I realize he's having a panic attack, probably triggered by some nightmare or flashback from his recent traumas, but before I can act he begins coughing and wheezing. Though breathing rapidly becomes difficult, he manages to say with what little air he has,_ "DON'T TOUCH ME!"

_Touching him will only worsen the panic attack, and I must calm him quickly to return his breathing back to normal. _"LISTEN TO ME," _I call loudly, in an effort to be heard over the combination of gasping breaths and repeated screams of 'don't touch me.'_ "YOU ARE SAFE, YOUNG MASTER. CAN YOU HEAR ME? I WILL NOT LET ANYTHING HAPPEN TO YOU. YOU ARE SAFE, CIEL. I AM BY YOUR SIDE. YOU ARE SAFE, CIEL. CIEL, PLEASE, YOU NEED TO CALM DOWN. TAKE A BREATH."

_I repeat his name in an effort to bring him back to his senses, maybe glare at me and scold me for addressing my master so informally, but anything is better than his high pitched wails and lack of breath. It seems to have the calming effect I'd hoped for, as his body starts shaking less, though still trembling. At least the screams have subsided. He goes quiet, save for the coughing and sputtering in an attempt to regain his breath. I imagine a select few people have had the privilege of calling the boy by his first name and getting away with it. I offer my hand, not wanting to throw him back into panicked screams by touching him, but allowing him help should he choose to accept it. _

"There now, young master. It's all over. It was only a bad dream. Nothing more. It's all over, Ciel."

_His face is drenched with sweat and tears as he looks at me, no disgust, no emotion, just blank, as though the fitful crying boy had vanished in seconds. He turns, crawling carefully into his parent's bed._ "I..." _he gasps,_ "I want...to be here."

_I pull the covers over him._ "Very well then, if it will help you sleep, my lord. You need to sleep well and regain your strength. There is much to do on an ever growing agenda. You are no longer a mere child, but an Earl, and with that comes specific obligations that you will be required to fulfill. Do not expect the world to show you kindness and mercy nor take pity on you because of what has happened to you. The world is a cruel and unforgiving place that often makes Hell look like a reprieve in comparison. That being said, would you like some warm milk to help you sleep." _I add a smile to these last words, realizing that perhaps my words seem a bit callous and that such lectures are best left to daylight hours. _

"It's not that I am a child,"_ he fires back,_ "You are ignorant of what loss feels like. One day, I too shall fill these holes of my heart with nothing more than venom and hatred and let wrath befall any who dare make a mockery of me. Do not question my motives or my innocence. I have retained nothing that would exist in the mindset of a child. I /am/ an Earl, and demon or no you are my servant, Sebastian, under my jurisdiction and my order. I will not stand to be insulted for my reprieve. When the time comes, they will find me here, and I will exact revenge in a most unpleasant way, until I stand on the other side, in hell, and call check-mate. Am I in any way misunderstood de-" _he pauses, his tone lightening, though he was still full of fury, _"Sebastian?"

_Apparently that brief stint of weakness did not last long. Good. I was beginning to think that maybe my meal had become less than salvageable, left in the fires of the pan too long, charred and dry, over seasoned. I am glad to see the succulent and tender feast that I had first smelled has remained in tact, for how long remains to be seen. The preparation of a soul is a delicate process. The slightest mishap and the dish can become ruined beyond all recognition. I smile,_ "Yes, I believe I understand you perfectly, my lord. Forgive me, of my grave offenses. I meant only to better prepare you for the events to come, but it appears both your heart and mind are ready for the task at hand. Again, that being said, would you like some warm milk to help you sleep?"

"May I?" _he asked, some of that child-like innocence coming back,_ "With honey?"

"Of course, I shall return shortly, my lord."

"No," _he said, holding his tiny hand out to me,_ "Don't leave. Just..." _he sighs, going against his own request, _"Just this once. Do it your way."

"Yes, my lord," _I reply, already holding a cup of warm milk with honey and handing it to him._

_ He cocks his head to the side, sipping the milk with a look of contentment, sinking down a bit into his parent's pillows, _"How do you do it? Is it simply speed, or some sort of magic?" _He stares into the cup, assessing its value as real milk, no doubt._

_ I smile. _"How do you know that that is even milk and not me tricking your senses into believing that the cup you feel in your hands, the smell of golden honey, and the taste of milk are all real when there is actually nothing but air beneath your fingers? How do you know that is not the case, young master?"

"Well,"_ he ponders,_ "I suppose were that the case, there wouldn't be sustenance. My body isn't used to sustenance and I can feel the weight settle. My mind isn't so easily tricked. You enjoy playing games, too, Sebastian? I never lose."

"Is that so? How do you know that I do not also trick your body as well as your mind? Hmm? That I am the one that makes you feel sustenance, full, and satisfied?"

"Because," _he says, yawning,_ "That takes far too much effort. You could, in all fairness, starve me, or play tricks with me. But, you would cross a thin line of honesty, an oath you cannot break," _he smiles,_ "Besides, most people don't find it becoming to play with their food. That is...after all, what I am to you, is it not?"

"Yes, well, demons are very fond of playing with their food." _I flash my pointed teeth at him._ "But I would never starve you, nor lie. The milk you drink is, in fact milk. However, a good magician never reveals his secrets." _I bring my finger to my lips as if to say 'shh'._

_He doesn't cower. _ "Understand, Sebastian, that my dreams are much more frightening than a demon who is bound to me under contract. For all intensive purposes, you are the 'knight' to my 'king', and you will protect me no matter the cost. I will never submit myself like a sacrificial lamb to you. I am the one controlling the pieces, and I do not fear a black knight who is chained to his place on the board. Until our contract has been fulfilled." _He asserts himself with a smile._

_He wants me to know that he will not be controlled. He considers himself exalted, and considers me the dog for which he's named me after. He sees nothing beyond his own eyes. He sees this servant's attire I have chosen to put on and views it as chains to control something greater than he can conceive, not realizing that this guise is merely a mask for the lion to walk amongst the herd until the time to strike approaches. He does not bother to see the strings that tether him, a puppet so easily manipulated by a mere flick of the wrist. After all, humans are so easily swayed by the power of persuasion._

"And what then? When our contract is complete, your revenge exacted? Will you fear me then? Do you fear death, your demon finally taking what is his?"

_Still his eyes begin to drop again, they flicker open painfully each time, as if closing them brings monsters out of their shadows._ "I looked at death far too long to fear it. If you wish me to fear you, I shall not grant you the satisfaction. If I have learned anything. Life is pain. Death is an end. I'm merely not ready to end my game until I make my opponent suffer greatly for the casualties." _He stares at the blanket with nothing more to say, no more weakness to show, thought it's painfully present._

"Then I shall happily be your sword to cut your enemies down. Now if you'll excuse me, my lord, I'll let you go back to sleep. I hope you find these accommodations more suitable."

_He shifts in the bed, trying to get comfortable. As I begin to close the door behind me, I hear his footsteps, and feel...arms...tight around my waist, _"No, Sebastian, please. Stay. Stay until I fall asleep,"_ he begs. The tears come back, but his eyes are angry, his fear overtaking his pride._

_ His tiny fists clench my overcoat tightly, his voice desperate. With some effort I pry his hands away from me, his breath becoming frantic again as if I will abandon him to whatever manifestations his traumatized mind has devised. I kneel down and wipe away tears from his eyes. _"I will stay with you always, until the very end, my lord."_ I pick him up and put him back in bed, pulling the covers up to his chin. Though the room is pitch black because of the thick drapes, I know the sun has fully risen. I go to the shelf and pull off a book._ "Perhaps a bit of reading will help put your mind at ease," _I say with a smile. I stand beside his bed, and begin reading by the light of the candelabra, _"I've always been a bit fond of Shakespeare, myself. Kind man indeed. I wish I'd been the one he'd sold his soul to for his success. Do you have a favorite play, or perhaps I should just read a few sonnets?"

"_The Raven_," _he says without hesitation, his eyes drooping shut once more, _"By Poe."

_An interesting choice for a thirteen year old boy. An odd coincidence, as I am quite fond of ravens. A little gruesome and morbid for the intents and purposes. _"I think such a poem is best left for when you awake, young master, lest you have nightmares again. I shall read _Much Ado About Nothing_." I begin reading Act I Scene I.

_He opens his mouth to protest, but it gives way, and he vaguely listens at all as he succumbs to sleep, his hand reaching out in those final moments, searching for something _"...stay..." _he breaths, though his word is spoken to someone in a much different reality, a place of dreams._

_ Stay. Sebastian, please. Stay. _

Why do these words plague me? The only thing I can think about. The only thing I can focus on. Focus, yes, I should focus on the task at hand. I look down. "Oh dear. This is entirely unacceptable." I've been scrubbing the table so long my fingers are bleeding, and worse my claws have come out and left numerous long gashes in the wood.

This won't do at all. My hands heal instantly, an easy fix. I check my pocket watch. "Goodness. I'm…late."

The servants were suppose to be awoken nearly half an hour ago. This won't do at all. I put a tablecloth over both end tables, until I can purchase another one. I will just blame the expense on Finnian's careless use of strength when I do the expense reports. Honestly, this would be simpler if I could just use my powers, but that would go against my master's orders.

A ruined table, a shattered cup, and a delayed schedule…what's wrong with me, that I let my mind become preoccupied and my actions so unforgivably careless? The day's entire schedule will be delayed now, and so much to do. Ciel won't be happy about this. Master…my master won't be happy about this.


	3. Chapter Three (I): His Butler, Lavender

Chapter Three: His Butler, Scent of Lavender

-Part One-

Sebastian entered the servants quarters through a door in the kitchen. Other than Sebastian, Tanaka had the largest room. It was a simple white walled room, with oak furniture. A picture of a cherry blossom tree hung above the bed, memories of a former life in an exotic land. His most prized possession stood in the corner, a roll top desk where he kept several journals, filled with detail after detail of the house of Phantomhive. An exquisite display of triple katanas mounted the wall above the desk. To many, they would seem a prop, or a decoration. Neither the young master, nor the head butler questioned that the swords were still sharp, and prime to use, much the same as their wielder.

Tanaka had been the butler to Ciel's father, Vincent. As such, he was compliant in rising and beginning his duties, unlike the other three.

"Mr. Tanaka," Sebastian called as he knocked, leaving a small cart outside the elder's room with a fresh pot of green tea, the leaves imported from Japan. It was a courtesy Sebastian would not afford any of the other servants. He liked Tanaka well enough as far as humans went. He was quiet, kept to himself, did as was asked, and did not manage to destroy an entire manor in seconds. He left the cart quietly, knowing that Tanaka was awake, despite the fact he could not hear him.

Next, he knocked on Mey-Rin's door. Though he almost never entered the room, he knew that the walls were dark blue with mahogany furniture. It was a plain room, save for a picture of a beautiful nighttime landscape that Mey-Rin had chosen for herself. This room's centerpiece was hidden in the closet behind clothes and shoes. An assortment of handguns and rifles stood on an elegant rack, serving as a reminder of a nearly forgotten past and a means of protecting her master from anyone daring to wage a battle against the house of Phantomhive.

"Mey-Rin, it is time to wake up."

As if alerted to the presence just behind the door, her body immediately stirred at the sound of the knock. The sultry voice, muffled just slightly from the barrier that separated them, always caused her to jolt up out of bed. Her heart pounded in her chest and her cheeks flushed, knowing that he was so close. She always wondered if he would turn that knob and see her so indecently in her night clothes. But, of course he never did, and yet her heart still skipped a beat each morning at this ritual, waiting, hoping against hope.

"Y-y-yes, Mr. Sebastian, sir! I'll be there right away, sir, yes I will!" Mey-Rin called, hurriedly pulling on her uniform and brushing her hair, before putting her glasses on.

Sebastian woke Finnian much the same way he did his young master. The gardener could not be roused by a mere knock, so Sebastian opened the curtains of his large windows, illuminating the pale yellow walls and rosewood furniture with sunlight. Not wishing to be trapped indoors any longer than necessary, Finnian's windows were usually open, and he had decorated the room with potted ferns and bright yellow flowers, making it a garden in and of itself. A canary sat in a gold cage, his beloved pet, replacing the bird he had once lost.

"Finnian, it is time to wake up," Sebastian called.

Finnian suffered frequent nightmares as well. Startled, he sat up so fast that he cracked the frame of the bed a bit. With Finnian's strength, the bed had been broken several times and replaced, just like any other item in the Phantomhive household.

"Oooh, Mr. Sebastian, I'm so sorry. I'll fix it right away!"

"See to it later, Finnian. I need you downstairs as soon as possible. There is a great deal of work to be done."

"Y-Yes sir, right away, Mr. Sebastian, sir."

Bard was the most bothersome of the servants to wake up. Certainly more trouble than he was worth. He was a heavy sleeper and most unpleasant first thing in the morning. Sebastian had thrown a bucket of cold water on him on more than one occasion, though he saved such measures for rare and extreme circumstances. It caused such an unnecessary mess and he didn't want to warp the hardwood floors with such needless tactics. However, he was prepared to do so this morning if need be.

The room had hunter green walls and dark walnut furniture. The brash American displayed his passion proudly, cluttering the floor with crates of explosives and ammo, and covering the walls with an array of machine guns, shot guns, and rifles. It was almost like a minefield to outsiders walking into the room.

"Bard, it is time for you to wake up," Sebastian said, as he yanked open the curtains. The only reply he received was a loud snore from Bard, who didn't bother to move a muscle.

"Bard, it is time for you to wake up," Sebastian repeated, ripping off the blankets.

This time he rolled over, curling up a little trying to regain some warmth, as he said, "Piss off, will ya? I'm trying to sleep 'ere."

Sebastian's eyes flashed to a demonic shade of violet. _Piss off, will I? Idiot is still so out of it that he clearly does not know who it is he is dealing with._ Without hesitation or warning, Sebastian hit Bard upside the head.

The man's eyes snapped open and he sat up, rubbing the back of his head. "Aye, what's that for, Mr. Sebastian?"

"For not waking when I tell you to, Bard, and for thinking that you can speak to me with such lack of respect whether you are consciously aware of it or not. I haven't the time to deal with your incompetence this morning. _He_ is arriving soon. I shall need all of you to try to do your best to actually get some work done today." Sebastian's head fell into his hand with a sigh.

"Hey! Who's he?" Bard called after Sebastian, but the butler continued out the door to go greet their new house guest.

Sebastian breathed a heavy sigh, trying to prepare himself before opening the door. Ciel's Aunt An, more notorious as Madame Red, was sending her new butler to apprentice Sebastian, in hopes of making him at least somewhat capable. He was by far the worst servant Sebastian had ever had the misfortune of coming across. He made the other Phantomhive servants seem incredibly skilled in comparison.

"Hello, Grell Sutcliff, please do come in so we might begin your improvement. I'm afraid I have a great deal of work to do that is a bit more important than mending your clumsy ways. I'd like to be rid of you as soon as possible," Sebastian replied, with a smile upon opening the door.

"Oh thank you, Sebastian!" Grell answered, stepping into the entrance hall. He fell in line with the other servants, awaiting their orders for the morning.

"You are so kind! I simply can't thank you enough for this opportunity! What should I do first?" Grell said, eyes shining.

"Yes, Mr. Sebastian, what do we need to do?" Mey-Rin asked, excitedly.

"Well, I am already running behind schedule," Sebastian answered, checking his pocket watch, "Mey-Rin, you can begin setting the table for the morning's breakfast. Finnian, you can begin watering the plants. Bard, you and I will prepare the young master's breakfast, before I wake him up. I haven't the time for any mishaps Grell, so please do me a favor and watch what I do precisely, preferably from a safe distance. Oh, and do try not to touch anything. Tanaka, you do exactly what you are doing,"

By the time Sebastian reached the young master's bedroom door, he had already put out one of Bard's fires, caught a handful of plates that Mey-Rin nearly dropped, and helped Finnian stop the water from running after breaking the handle to the hose.

Then, there was Grell, every step and touch a catastrophic disaster of such proportions that nothing was safe within his reach. Sebastian began to wonder if the inept butler had the capability of breaking anything just by a mere look. Why, with all the competent butlers in England, had a noblewoman such as Angelina Duress chosen this...disgrace? He checked his pocket watch again. Forty-five minutes behind schedule. This was unacceptable.

Entering his master's room. he went to open the curtains; but his hands froze on the fabric, the nightstand catching the corner of his eye. It had been so unlike his lord to behave in such a way. _How curious. _

He walked to the nightstand and opened the drawer softly. A handgun, a deck of cards, a couple books, a collection of short stories and poems by Edgar Allen Poe lay on top. He picked it up. Reading this had undoubtedly been the source of last night's traumatic dreams. His eyes fixated on the bookmark between its pages: a black feather…_his_ feather. He opened the book, his finger tracing over the feather. The title of the page read: _The Raven_. Sebastian couldn't help but laugh softly at the irony, as he replaced the book in the drawer. _Oh dear, my lord, what new game are you playing at now?_

"Young master, it is time for you to wake up," Sebastian said, pulling the curtains open.

Ciel's eyes fluttered at the light, as he sat up in bed, groggily. "You're late," he noted, at the brightness of the sun glaring into his window. His eyes shifted quickly towards his nightstand, as thoughts of last night came flooding back to him. He looked up towards Sebastian, feeling a knot hitch in his throat, his heart throbbing as though Sebastian could see into his mind and into the drawer. _A stupid feather. I'll have to dispose of it._ Later, he told himself, unwilling to come to terms with the fact that he did not wish to do anything of the sort.

"My apologies, my lord, there have been some delays this morning with the blunders of your Aunt's butler amidst the foul ups of the other three servants," he explained, not wanting to admit to his own mishaps, even to himself. He pulled the blankets back on Ciel's bed.

"Are you incapable of dealing with these issues effectively, as a butler of the Phantomhive household?" Ciel asked snidely, swinging his legs over the bed with a smirk, "And, incapable of thinking clearly as well, Sebastian? My tea?"

_Tea?_ Sebastian thought to himself, as he looked at the silver serving cart, _Yes, I suppose I normally give the young master his tea before pulling back his blankets. How careless of me._

"I have taken care of everything, my lord, though admittedly a little behind schedule. As for my actions regarding your tea, I merely thought you would like to drink it while I get you dressed, as we are running late and have errands to attend to in town."

He poured the hot water over the tea leaves, allowed it to steep, then added sugar and cream before handing the cup and saucer to his lord. "This morning I've prepared you a cup of Earl Grey. For breakfast, we will be having a lightly poached salmon accompanied by a mint leaf salad. We also have toast, scones, and pan de campagne."

"I do hope in your carelessness, you did not leave breakfast preparations to Bardroy?" Ciel asked, sipping his tea. The question was not meant to be answered, but rather, a bullet at Sebastian. It was a game they played frequently. Ciel looked for holes in Sebastian's nearly-perfected butler rouse; and Sebastian would find tears in the fabric of the Earl's guise, a never ending battle of wits. But the game was just that, a game, meant to be fun and nothing more. Unless one of them was actually pissed at the other, which was certainly not unheard of...then, the stakes were raised, sometimes to a careless level.

Inhaling the fresh scent of Earl Grey, Ciel let out a sigh, trying to think, as his butler prepared his clothing, "And of my schedule today, Sebastian?"

"After breakfast we will be going into town to fetch your walking stick now that it is finally completed. After that I am afraid we will have to be a bit flexible as much of my time will be devoted to training your Aunt's butler, per your orders. He is such a nuisance I daresay it will take a miracle just to complete your tutoring lesson at this rate." Sebastian had selected a white shirt, with a blue bow, brown shorts, and matching overcoat for today's outfit. He began unbuttoning his master's nightshirt.

During the past couple years, this had become a routine. Even before there was Sebastian, there was Tanaka, taking care of all of Ciel's needs. He'd never needed to learn to button a shirt, or tie shoes, or a tie. It had always been done for him. But, now, he found a lump in his throat again, burning this time from the Earl Grey.

Occasionally, Sebastian's gloves would slide over the fabric, brushing Ciel's skin just slightly. It was a common enough occurrence, but for some reason these gentle, otherwise meaningless touches sparked fire. He blinked, keeping his eyes closed for a long time, feeling the lingering burn where white gloves had gone astray against his skin. He swallowed the lump down again, opening his eyes, and exhaling. "I don't mind canceling my lessons today." he smirked, detesting his lessons, especially Latin and history.

"Of course you wouldn't, my lord. You would much rather sit behind your desk and do nothing but eat cake, drink tea, and build houses out of cards, but as I continually reiterate to you there is still much you need to learn in regards to being a respectable nobleman, as well as the queen's guard dog. Your studies are crucially important."

_ He is rather tense today for some reason. His heart is beating faster and its almost as if he is trying to hold his breath. Probably still worked up from his nightmares last night, or else…no that's absurd. The feather, he kept it as a joke, probably to mock me with later or else throw in my face with some snide remark and a sneer or perhaps even an angry order to never do such a thing again, with a slap across the face. He couldn't possibly have kept it for comfort. This racing heart, it couldn't possibly be some sort of attraction, certainly not towards…_

Sebastian's own heart clenched at these thoughts. _This clenching in my chest is starting to become irritating._

"Yes, yes, I know," Ciel said, sighing, "That doesn't mean I have to enjoy such tedious things." He seemed lost in his own thoughts for a moment, before his teeth clenched in protest, "I do much more than eat cake and drink tea, I'll have you know."

Ciel crossed his arms, now encased in the soft custom-tailored brown jacket. "And how dare you insult my integrity?" he complained as Sebastian tied the bow around his neck, before complaining about that as well, "It's too tight." It really wasn't, of course; but, Ciel had never taken lightly to an insult, whether it was intentional or not, and so he looked for anything to belittle Sebastian in order to remind him of his place.

"My apologies, my lord," Sebastian replied, retying the bow a little looser, "I didn't realize it was too tight. As for my insult as you call it, I am merely stating the truth that you have a great deal more to learn. You did order me never to lie to you. While I understand these tasks are not enjoyable, they are necessary skills for you to assume your role in society."

"I scarcely see the point in learning what they call a 'dead' language," Ciel grumbled, though he'd clearly given in. He looked down at his clothing, looking for anything else to tell Sebastian he'd messed up on. Finding nothing more to complain about, he picked up the saucer with his tea, sipping it silently, before handing it back to Sebastian, "To the dining hall, then. I hardly trust those three with someone who is less capable than they are."

"Yes, I think that would be wise, my lord."

A short time later, in the downstairs dining room, Sebastian had just pulled out Ciel's chair for breakfast when Grell came bursting through the door on top of Sebastian's silver serving cart. He crashed to the floor with a loud bang, spilling tea on Finnian, who cried out loudly.

"I'm so…so sorry. I'll wipe it off." Grell screeched, grabbing the tablecloth and attempting to clean up the mess, sending the entire breakfast crashing to the floor before the young master could take a single bite.

Sebastian almost expected a harsh word from his master; but, rather, Ciel rest his head in his hand, annoyed, but trying to be gentle. He'd really been hungry, too.

Sebastian looked on as Bard whispered rather loudly to Ciel, "Master, why didja agree ta take on such a useless idiot?"

"You're one to talk, Bard." Ciel retorted with finesse, "It didn't seem like such a bad idea. I thought Sebastian would be the only one inconvenienced. I never expected I would be affected by it as well."

"I'm so sorry for causing all of this trouble," Grell said, sinking to his knees, "I simply don't know how I can apologize enough. Wait, that's it!" He stood up so quickly that all three servants who had been glaring at him scooted away, before disaster could strike again, "The only thing I can do now is DIE! I shall atone with my death." He held a dagger to his chest.

To Ciel, it looked like something straight out of the Shakespearean plays that Sebastian was so fond of. Perplexed, if not downright amused by this scene, Ciel looked to Sebastian.

"CALM DOWN A SECOND!" Bard panicked, reaching out to Grell.

"Umm, should we take the knife away?" Mey-Rin pondered.

It was a blatantly obvious question, though, rather than protest Grell's suicidal thoughts, Ciel found himself wondering where in the bloody hell the knife had come from in the first place.

It was Sebastian's hand that inevitably rest against Grell's shoulder. "There is no need for that. Just think of the horrible mess you would make. It would take hours to clean up all of the blood."

Grell's eyes shone at the butler in admiration, his hands clasped together, "Thank you, Sebastian. You're so very kind."

Bard looked confused, "That was kindness?" The other servants shook their heads.

"Now, what I'd like to know," Sebastian continued, "Is how you could ever think it was acceptable to serve the master such weak tea. Watch me." Sebastian demonstrated, setting a teapot down on the table. He began scooping loose leaf tea into the pot, with expert care, "A spoonful for each person, and one more for the pot. Finally, add half a pint of boiling water, and let it steep until done."

The other servants took down notes, as Grell stared in awe. Ciel sipped his tea contently, but never did voice his approval. He wouldn't give Sebastian such satisfaction, further inflating his ego.

"Master, are you ready? It is almost time. I have the carriage waiting for you in the front drive now."

"Fine," Ciel replied, dryly, continuing with his second cup of tea for the day, still wanting at least a scone or some sort of pastry. He would order Sebastian to make up for it somehow later...perhaps a delectable chocolate cake.

"As for the rest of you," Sebastian continued, "I want this place absolutely spotless. Understand? Grell, perhaps you should just sit there and relax so you don't cause any more trouble. Oh, and if you do seek your eternal rest, please see to it outside, and try not to make too big a mess."

"What generosity! What great kindness!" Grell said, marveling once more at Sebastian's words as though they were truly the nicest thing anyone had ever said to him.

"What an idiot," Ciel murmured under his breath, softly. Sebastian smirked as the master said exactly what he himself had been thinking, even if the butler had been the only one that overheard such a snide remark.

When at last they arrived in town, word had spread throughout the streets of a prostitute who had been mysteriously murdered. It was undoubtedly another case for the Queen's guard dog to take care of. _Her majesty's letter should be arriving any day to give such orders_, Sebastian thought, displeased.

A raven perched on the sign outside the shop. _How ironic_, Sebastian mused. "I've always considered them to be lovely creatures, myself. Don't you think so, my lord?" Sebastian asked, with a smile, "I know you are so fond of the poem by Edgar Allan Poe, but do you like the actual creatures? I wonder, were you reading such poems last night? That is, after all, so often the case when you're having nightmares all night."

Ciel's eyes opened wide, but he quickly withdrew such expressions of emotion, looking back down at the ground outside the shop, "It's just a silly bird. Why such impertinent questions? It isn't as though I asked you to lurk outside my chambers at night. While we're on the subject...why were you...stalking about last night?" Sebastian moved a piece, Ciel evaded, putting him back into check. This was how the game was played.

"As always, I was merely performing my nightly duties, but it is rather hard to focus on such tasks when I can hear your screams in the kitchen. I was concerned, so I thought I would bring you some tea to ease your mind. Would you prefer I leave you to your night terrors from now on?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Ciel scoffed, "Are we just going to stand here all day, or can we actually go into the shop?"

He stared at Sebastian's hand on the doorknob. _I wonder if those hands would feel better, warmer against my skin, without those gloves. If the black tips of his fingers would be as gentle._ He felt a chill go up his back and jumped a bit, his face becoming crimson with the humiliation of such lewd thoughts.

"But of course, my lord. After you," Sebastian replied with a smile before bowing slightly.

_He's blushing,_ Sebastian observed, _This appears to be more serious then I thought. He's very self conscious and defensive over such an insignificant token. He's certainly not mocking me, no snide remarks, nor orders to never do such a thing again. It's almost as if he's trying to hide the fact that he knows that I was by his side or that he kept that feather. Peculiar._

Ciel brushed by Sebastian through the door, which rang a tiny little bell, alerting the older shopkeeper of their presence. He walked a few paces in front of Sebastian, making certain to remind the demon of his station.

"Hello, boy," the shopkeeper greeted him cheerfully enough. Ciel sneered at the word as the shopkeeper continued, "Did your father send you for something?"

_How contemptuous,_ Ciel thought, his eyebrows furrowing and his frown darkening his young face, as it so often did, _To address me so informally, and to suggest that I have no business here._

_ Oh dear,_ _it seems the presumptuous fool has invoked the wrath of my master. There are select few things that Ciel Phantomhive hates more than remarks about his age or stature. _Sebastian smiled, knowing the man would have to be punished for such tactlessness.

"Actually," Sebastian addressed the shopkeeper, stepping in front of his master, and holding up a slip of paper, "He is here on his own business." Sebastian handed the paper to the shopkeeper, who looked it over for a brief moment, as Sebastian continued politely, "We need to pick this up."

"Oh," the shopkeeper said, going to a drawer behind his counter, "You're here for _that_ walking stick. I was wondering who would have a use for one as short as this."

Ciel's frown deepened. Sebastian nearly smiled. The shopkeeper took no notice, as he turned, handing the pristine walking stick to Sebastian with a smile, "Naturally, I didn't think a child-"

The end of the walking stick stopped within a fraction of an inch of the man's face. _How easily I could have just shoved this stick clean through, but then there would be such a mess to clean and of course the young master would be cross with me. I couldn't have that. Still, this should teach him to respect the name of Phantomhive from now on._ "Straight as an arrow. A magnificent stick indeed, my good sir," Sebastian said, smiling as the man nearly died of shock.

Sebastian set down a bag of money and headed towards the door before adding, "Keep the change. Good day."

Ciel was abnormally quiet on the ride home. He'd remarked very little about the incident with the shopkeeper, only stating that Finnian had caused him an inconvenience, and that it was high time he'd gotten a new walking stick anyway. He _had_ grown a few inches, thank-you-very-much.

He was, however, taking it all in. The hushed whispers on the street about the murdered prostitute, the excitement of children gushing over the new Funtom rabbit that his company had released. Ciel knew that he should be happy about such things, but they only reminded him of his innocence, long since stolen away from him. As for the prostitute...it would be his duty soon. The yard was always incapable of these sort of things.

Ciel wanted none of it. He yearned for peace and quiet. Being stuck in the carriage with Sebastian made Ciel feel strangely. He was irritated at how he seemed to be noticing little quirks with his butler. He would check his pocket watch every ten minutes or so. Then, there was the smell. He smelled of lavender, like the gardens...only Ciel was pretty certain it was his hair. Then, there was the faint smell of breakfast...the chocolate chips of his scones. His stomach growled with an ache. It had been so long since he'd almost gotten to eat breakfast.

Ciel had been so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn't heard Sebastian's question, his butler's voice snapping him back to reality, "Young master?"

"What?" Ciel said, looking out the window, anywhere to avoid Sebastian's gaze.

"I said that you are rather quiet, my lord. Is something troubling you?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Ciel retorted. _Is something bothering me? Not at all. Only that for some reason, I can smell your hair, and I can feel the hairs stand up on my body because of it. I'd like to blame it on the murder, making me cringe, making chills run up my spine...but, I can't. Death's crimson portrait doesn't even phase me. So...why? Why do you do this to me? So mysterious, and beautiful, my means to revenge...my imminent death. I loathe you, Sebastian Michaelis._

"You needn't dwell on such trivial matters, my lord. The shopkeeper was an ignorant fool, unfamiliar with the name of Phantomhive and the respect it demands. We shall work to solve this recent murder, when the queen's orders arrive, and until then you shouldn't burden yourself with thoughts on the matter. But, I think what is upsetting you the most is the boy's excitement over the new Funtom rabbit. To have such bewilderment and joy over something so simple. A painful reminder of a life you should have had, rather then the tragic hand you were dealt. Am I right?" Sebastian asked.

"You're right," he said, simply. "I shouldn't dwell on such trivial matters." _The smell of lavender, the feel of un-gloved hands, of soft black feathers,_ he shoved such trivial matters back to the recesses of his mind, swallowing another lump in his throat. It was completely improper to dwell on such derisory notions. He removed his coat with some effort. It was really quite warm for Spring.

"When we arrive at the manor, I should like to have my lunch in my study. I have quite a bit of work to do before I become swept up in this murder case. It's only a matter of days before Her Majesty finds the Yard incompetent as always."

"Very well, sir," Sebastian replied with a smile, "Is there anything in particular that you would like me to fix you?"

"Chocolate chip scones," he muttered.

"Yes, I suppose you didn't get a chance to taste this morning's batch before Grell's rein of havoc, did you?" he smiled, "I do apologize for not making you another breakfast this morning, but we were already very behind schedule. You must be quite hungry."

As if to further humiliate him, his stomach growled at the very thought of warm, delectable scones, "Yes, well, I suppose it couldn't be helped," Ciel sighed, "I wonder what use Madame Red finds for someone so utterly futile. It gives me a headache just thinking about the mess that those four have likely made of my manor."

"Yes, I can only imagine," Sebastian mused, "Though I suggest the next time you seek to punish me, it's in a way that does not also inconvenience yourself. You're rather stressed enough as it is."

"Punish you?" Ciel asked, smirking, "I simply enjoy troubling you. Rest assured that were it punishment, it would not merely be an inconvenience."

"Oh? And what sort of punishment did you have in mind?" Sebastian asked, curious as to what his master considered suitable torment for a demon of hell.

At that moment, any thought of a real punishment faded, "I..." he started, his cheeks flushing a brilliant shade of crimson thinking of orders he could give Sebastian that were anything but punishment. He felt sick. "Don't ask such foolish questions."

Normally, he wouldn't have hesitated - listing a multitude of fairly creative things that only a mind as sharp and still meticulously twisted as Ciel Phantomhive's could come up with. Now, he feared the answer that would come out of his mouth. _That's it. The feather, and any notions with it are disappearing the second I get home. _

When had this pit in his stomach even started? This was a demon, not a person that was capable of feelings. Merely a tool...a knight...no, a pawn. Insignificant and meaningless. 'It' was, in this form, a man and a butler, both of which would result in his own imprisonment should he act on such obscene urges. Ciel's stomach lurched as the carriage came to a halt. If he'd had breakfast that morning, it would have more than likely come up with such revolting thoughts. He just wanted to go back to bed, and cease the thoughts that were plaguing him.

_ Blushing? Apparently my lord's thoughts on punishment are anything but innocent._ For a brief moment, Sebastian's mind succumbed to such seductions. His lord lying down on the bed, posed most suggestively, looking up with those intoxicating eyes, brushing soft hair away from his face. _Sebastian stay with me._ The clench in his heart was accompanied by a lustful jolt that went through his heart, penetrating his stomach, and going lower still. He shoved away such thoughts, not showing such inappropriate displays of emotion as he replaced Ciel's coat on him, before he opened the carriage door. "You must be tired, master. I'll prepare a tea for you immediately," Sebastian replied, opening the door to the manor.


	4. Chapter Three (II): His Butler, Lavender

**Chapter Three: His Butler, Scent of Lavender**

**-Part II-**

Ciel barely heard a word Sebastian had said, his eyes fixated on the man's lips rather than the words they were saying. He hated that such obscene thoughts refused to relinquish their hold on his mind. He found himself actually relieved by the catastrophic state of his manor as Sebastian opened the door. _As good a distraction as any_, Ciel thought, breathing a sigh of relief before he stepped inside, agape in shock, putting back on his mask.

"What's the matter?" Sebastian asked, peeking inside, before surprise took over his features as well. So much pink, bows and frills, and horrible cute little animals infesting everything in Ciel's beloved home.

"My mansion!" Ciel exclaimed, looking with disgust from long colorful streamers to pink hearts to fluffy bunnies.

"What happened to this place?" Sebastian asked, wanting to know who was responsible for such a mockery that he would undoubtedly be in charge of cleaning up, "Why, it's a disaster."

All at once, the three servants came bolting out of the drawing room. Finny, who wore a pair of bunny ears, and Mey-Rin knelt down beside Sebastian, as if cowering from some unspeakable terror. Bard was dressed up as a maid, and he remained standing, clutching Sebastian's trench coat in both hands, "Sebastian!"

"What is going on here!?" Sebastian asked, eyes wide and not nearly thrilled that Bard was about two inches away from his face, "And why on Earth are you all dressed like lunatics?"

Bard, the American...self proclaimed fearless chef and firearm specialist shook as he pointed to the kitchen, "She's crazy!"

"Who is crazy?" Ciel demanded, stepping in as a serious look came over his features, the relief of a distraction waning and the gravity of the situation sinking in. When he heard a gargled sound coming from the drawing room, he immediately went to investigate.

Upon his entrance, he found Grell dangling like a pinata from the ceiling, in a noose, decorated in frilly yellow bows. "What are you doing?" Ciel asked angrily.

"I do believe I'm in the process of dying, Master Ciel," Grell choked.

Ciel's tone was becoming more displeased and agitated by the moment. He looked down, scoffing, "Get him down, Sebastian."

"Yes," Sebastian agreed, going to take Grell down.

Before he had even reached him, a blur of orange rushed by. "CIEEEL!" Lizzie screeched as she pounced into Ciel's arms, "Ciel, you're back! I missed you so much!"

"Elizabeth, what a surprise," Ciel said, taken aback, as he went rigid in her arms.

_Of course, the fiancé,_ Sebastian sighed, cutting down the Grell piñata, _How could I have almost forgotten? An unexpected visit…just when I thought I didn't have enough to do with an additional idiotic servant, more incompetent than the three I am already in charge of. Now I have all this pink to contend with, festering what was once my master's pristine manor._

Seeing the young Lady's arms around his master filled him with a new feeling, a sickening coldness filling his stomach. _What is this? There are a great multitude of complex emotions that human beings were capable of. Demons can feel too, just as strongly, but living for centuries has a tendency to harden the heart, leaving only deep cardinal feelings like hunger, anger, and lust. Now, I find myself rediscovering old feelings, forgotten long ago. _He tried to put a name to it._ Could this be…jealousy? Whatever it is, I find myself not liking it. Not in the slightest. _

"How many times do I have to tell you? Call me Lizzie! You really are just the cutest thing ever! Aren't you, darling boy? I could just eat you up!"

"Lady Elizabeth?" Sebastian said, holding up the Grell piñata.

"Oh, hello Sebastian," Elizabeth said, turning to face the butler, "How are you?" She looked at Grell and her eyes saddened, "Aww, you took him down?"

"Yes, well he distracted from the beauty of the room," Sebastian offered with a smile.

" But I made such a lovely decoration out of him," Elizabeth pouted.

"A decoration?" Sebastian questioned.

"YES! Just look at it all! Isn't this salon so cute now?"

"Ugh, my mansion," Ciel said, in utter exasperation, "It's so pink."

"From now on only the cutest things belong in the Phantomhive manor! Wouldn't you agree Antoinette?" she asked, looking to poor Tanaka, who sat in a curly blonde wig.

"Oh, and Tanaka…" Sebastian said, with pity.

"And I have a present for you too!" Lizzie said, delightedly as she placed a flowery, pink bonnet on Sebastian's head. "You're always dressed in black, so I thought this might be a nice change. What do you think?"

The other three Phantomhive servants snickered at such an absurd sight, but they were quickly silenced by one look from the head butler.

As foolish as he felt in a pink hat and even with the sickening coldness in his stomach, for some reason he couldn't be angry at this overly cheery, bright eyed girl. "I am deeply honored that you would go to so much trouble for a humble servant. Your generosity overwhelms me," Sebastian said, with a bow.

"Happy to help," Elizabeth beamed.

"In any event, Lizzie, what are you doing here?" Ciel asked, "Auntie didn't let you come alone."

"I sneaked away, because I wanted to see you silly!" Lizzie said, throwing her arms around Ciel once more.

"You sneaked away?" Ciel asked, feeling his ribs being crushed, his blood going cold, "Don't you think you'll get into trouble?" Moreover, would _he_ get into trouble? His Aunt Frances wasn't well known for tolerance or generosity to such behaviors, and would likely think Ciel had something to do with it.

"I know!" Lizzie continued, ignoring Ciel, "Now that the mansion is decorated so prettily why don't we have a ball tonight! Then you can be my escort and we can dance around all night long! Isn't that a wonderful idea?" Lizzie asked, spinning Ciel around.

"A ball? No!" Ciel said, in protest.

"You wear the clothes I picked out for you, won't you? Pretty please! They'd look so cute on you!" she said, eyes shining.

"I don't want…"Ciel continued to object.

"And of course I'll be dressed to the nines as well!" Lizzie proclaimed, before running up to Grell, "You come with me! I want to make you look even cuter than you already are!"

As Lizzie raced down the hall, dragging Grell with her, Ciel yelled, "WAIT I SAID NO BALL!"

Ciel looked at the closed door with absolute disdain, wishing his carriage had never stopped and kept on riding across the country side. It would have been less of a headache than this ordeal, and he could have been alone with…

"Sebastian," Ciel said, through gritted teeth, "My scones. Now."

The Earl stormed off to his study, not daring to glance back at his butler lest his heart skip another beat.

_It's been nearly an hour and Sebastian has yet to bring me my scones. Bastard. Who the hell does he think he is?_ Ciel's stomach growled as he drummed his fingers impatiently on the desk. But, it wasn't his stomach gnawing at him that troubled him so. His heart was screaming at him and his head reamed. It would be easier to blame it all on hunger, but no matter how many scones filled his stomach, when the plate was empty there would still be…_Lizzie_.

There was a time that Ciel looked forward to his fiancé's visits. Now, just like the boy outside the Funtom shop in town, she served as a painful reminder that he was forever changed, stained. Lizzie had retained the sweetness of innocence, and somehow assumed he could come through everything and return to the bright eyed, happy child she had first met. He wasn't that boy anymore, nor could he ever be. She didn't know everything that had changed him, nor would she. Even if his own innocence had been corrupted, he would at least do everything in his power to preserve hers. He owed that much to her at least, even if he would never have the chance to be the husband she deserved.

That innocence, that utter joy, a part of him hated her for it, resented her even. He never looked forward to her overly cheerful ways, of trying to make him smile, or worse, calling him her fiancé. He knew that even if he lived long enough to utter such dishonest vows, that it would just be another part to play, another act before the final chapter. He would never be able to make her happy, and she'd spend what short time they had together with a husband who could never love her the way she so desperately craved, and the rest of her life as a widow mourning the boy she had once known, rather than the man she knew nothing of. He did care for Lizzy, regardless of in what way or how he chose to show it. He didn't want her life to be built on empty lies, like his own. He wouldn't wish the life he had on anyone.

He was fifteen years old, so young, and yet so tired, wearied down by fake smiles and sugar-coated lies. His life felt hollow. He almost felt as if he were drowning. While other kids attended school, playing practical jokes and attending social events, blissfully happy in their innocence...he sat at his desk going through paperwork for the company he created, socializing with England's elite, and taking orders from her Majesty, as the Queen's guard dog. All of it an act, meaningless. It didn't matter how many toys his company sold, how many people knew the name of Phantomhive, how much crime he cleaned up. His revenge would be completed soon. He would be dead. His soul would be devoured. For Ciel Phantomhive, there was no future to plan for, and it was pointless to think about such things.

He should have been like them, happily innocent, focusing on school, friends, and girls, instead of paperwork, crimes, and revenge. His father should be here, taking the time to show him how to fulfill his duties. His mother should be here too, and though he'd never dare admit it aloud, he wanted nothing more than her sweet voice reading to him as he drifted away to the land of dreams. But he couldn't even bring himself to dwell on should-have-beens. Not only did it make him feel weak, but even that dim glimmer was too much to hope for, when all that he had to look forward to was an imminent demise and an eternity in the flames of hell, nothing more than a demon's meal.

So he walked among them, but was never part of them, like one of the many tragic poems of Poe. His past was a tortured memory, his future nonexistent, but it was the present that made it all so painful. Having to keep up the act in order to fulfill his revenge, but never having anything in life to truly look forward to. An engagement to Elizabeth, he hadn't chosen this, for either of them. Like so much of his life, he had had no choice in the matter, everything had been chosen for him. It was probably best that way, after all the first time he was able to make a decision for himself he had traded his soul to a demon. Sebastian…the only thing that he had _chosen_ to have in his life.

Ciel crumpled up the letter he had been writing to thank a potential investor in Germany for their interest in his company. He tossed it in the wastebasket across the room, before it bounced out. He sighed, getting up out of his chair. He locked the door to his study. Judging by the smell penetrating the entire mansion, Sebastian was still hard at work, baking, and there was a little bit of time to allow him some small comfort.

Pulling one of the armchairs over to the door, he climbed up, fumbling at the top of the door frame, until his hand closed around a silver key. Stepping carefully down from the chair, he pushed it back to the place it had been, angling it just a bit differently, knowing Sebastian would have to put it back in its precise location once more. He loved tormenting Sebastian's need for perfection, or else pointing out such careless errors. Just another one of the games they played.

He knelt by his desk, using the key to unlock the bottom drawer. Inside the drawer was a bit of Funtom candy, most of which was being tested and unreleased to the public, underneath which was a series of important documents. When he lifted that bit of the desk, on the bottom sat a small wooden box. Ciel lifted the box gingerly onto his desk, looking beneath it, and turning a gear. When he opened the box, soft music began to play as a strawberry-blonde figurine twirled with a raven-haired man, beneath whom sat a glittering diamond ring set._ Mother. Father. I wonder if things would have been different if it had stayed like this for you. Without...without..._

Hot tears stung Ciel's cheeks, staining not only his face but his paperwork as well. The music box was one of few relics that Sebastian had reclaimed from the ruins of his manor. This was the legitimate thing, and one of few things that held comfort to him anymore. From his top drawer, he removed the copy of _Tales and Poems of Edgar Allen Poe_ that he had brought over from his room, in case he needed a break from his work while he waited for his snack.

He opened the book directly to the page with one of his favorite pieces, "The Raven" which he could almost confidently recite by memory. Betwixt the pages sat Sebastian's feather. Just seeing it sent heat rushing directly to his heart, where it burned and ached, pounding hard as if losing a fight. It almost felt like an asthma attack, which was both annoying and frightening. He didn't like the way he felt when he looked at it...or thought about last night.

Sebastian was no angel. He would never do something so uncharacteristically kind for his master, nor would Ciel stand for it. So why? Why had this feather ended up in his bed as though the Gods in heaven knew that he had needed that comfort from his nightmares? Gods. Such a foolish notion. He had given up on any God before he'd sold his soul to a demon. If there was a God in heaven, he'd given up on Ciel Phantomhive for some reason when he was twelve, and lost his parents, his manor burned, and a cult abducted him, using him for their own pleasures, before attempting to sacrifice him to the very demon he now held a contract with. His body was rigid with both embarrassment and fear, that someone should see the small token that somehow had wound up in his bed with him.

He looked to the window. The trees in the courtyard were blowing in the breeze. He could easily just toss it out the window, nonchalantly and let the wind take it away, plaguing him no more with such persistent thoughts, like the "Tell Tale Heart" that had driven its owner insane with its dark secrets. It was just a simple feather. His hand closed around it, protectively, as a knock at the door made him jump.

"Young master?"

His heart raced fast, as the box fell to the floor. Ciel scrambled to pick it up, tucking the feather safely inside without much thought. He closed the box and jammed it in his drawer quickly.

"Just a moment, Sebastian," he said, sure he'd noticed his pitch elevate slightly.

Trying to regain his calm, he hid the key away in the top drawer, beneath a few pens and envelopes. He double checked to make certain the bottom drawer was secured, straightening his shirt, before walking to the door, and unlocking it. Sebastian waited a few moments before wheeling the serving cart in. Ciel couldn't meet his gaze. He knew Sebastian was questioning him on why he'd locked the door in the first place, even if he didn't address such concerns out loud.

"It's about time," Ciel said, putting on his best voice of irritation as he walked back to his desk, sitting down in his plush chair.

_He's acting very peculiar again. Very uncharacteristic of himself. I wonder what he could be hiding this time._ Sebastian mused.

"My apologies, young Master. I had to help the Lady Elizabeth lace Grell Sutcliff into a dress, which gave Bard just enough time to obliterate the kitchen. I swear no matter how many flamethrowers I take from him he manages to find another, though I suppose that's best lest he just start throwing gasoline around the kitchen and do irreparable damage," Sebastian said, moving the armchair back to it's proper location before going to the cart. "I've prepared you a few extra things as you were unable to eat breakfast. I've brought you Cornish pasties and chips, as well as an orchard fruit cake and of course your chocolate chip scones. For this afternoon's tea I've selected an oasis mango tea."

Sebastian set the plate of Cornish pasties and chips on the desk, before pouring the tea and setting the cup and saucer down beside it.

"What the hell is this?" Ciel said, adamantly, glaring at his butler, "I asked for scones, not...this...rubbish." His heart was still rushing from adrenaline, "Give them to me."

"Young master, I must insist that you eat something a bit more substantial before moving on to your sweets. You haven't eaten all day, and it will be quite awhile before the ball and later still for dinner. You cannot simply live on sugar, my lord."

"If you had done your job and kept an eye on that idiot, my breakfast would not have eluded me. It was not a request. My scones, Sebastian."

"No," Sebastian retorted without hesitation, "You really must eat something of sustenance. As for this morning's incident, you know perfectly well that I could easily have stopped Grell, but it was you who explicitly forbade me from using my powers in front of other humans…well, humans that we plan on keeping alive."

He smiled before adding, "Now, if you'll please, try your pasties and chips."

"So you'll punish me for not allowing your fun, then?" Ciel asked snidely, giving in, his stomach not allowing him to protest further as he cut into the pasty. It wasn't bad. Nothing Sebastian made was ever bad. Two bites in, he tried again, "Now, may I have my scone?" he said, crossing his arms in utter displeasure.

"I hardly consider that sustenance. Have patience. I assure you, your scones aren't going anywhere. You may have them afterward, and your Orchard Fruit Cake as well. That should keep you sated until tonight's ball. I have several hor d'oeuvres planned that I think you'll enjoy."

"Fine," Ciel groaned, continuing to eat, avoiding Sebastian's gaze.

When he was done, he'd given up on the scones, instead, resting his head against his desk in irritation, letting out an exasperated sigh.

_Not partaking in scones? This must be serious. I hope it has nothing to do with…that feather. _

"Is something wrong, master?" Sebastian asked.

"What am I to do, Sebastian? About Elizabeth?" He wanted Sebastian to get rid of the girl. Any excuse would do. It wouldn't have been the first time that he was 'sick' or 'had a meeting' or some other miniature disaster had befallen that sent the Lady Elizabeth on her way.

_Hmm_, Sebastian pondered, _Perhaps it would be best if the master went through this hardship. He must learn to be more sociable to fulfill his duties as a nobleman. As for the Lady Elizabeth, maybe some time with his fiancé will help focus his attentions on something, anything, other than…Poe._

"I believe the wisest course of action is to go along with her plan," Sebastian said, as he replaced the teapot on the silver cart, "I don't think she's going to listen to reason."

"Can't you just give her some tea or something and get her out of here?" Ciel whined, feeling both childish and rather guilty the second the words passed his lips. "...I...I don't have time for a stupid ball," he added, trying to make his previous words sound less harsh.

"My lord," Sebastian said, facing his master, "the Lady Elizabeth would like a dance. You cannot refuse her."

Disdain crept over Ciel's features once more, abandoning all pretenses of kindness in his last statement. He put his tea to his lips, inhaling the aroma; but not taking a sip before he looked away, cheeks flushing slightly with embarrassment.

Sebastian worked hard not to smile, "Master..."

"What now?" Ciel asked, the humiliation evident in both his faltering voice, and the fact that he looked at his desk rather than Sebastian, far more interested in his teacup's contents than his butler's words.

"I know I've never seen you dance before, but, I assume that you can?"

_Bastard. Just with the way he's looking at me, I can tell he is enjoying this too much. It is going to be another game where Sebastian hits hard, leaving me vulnerable, humiliated. His favorite type of game, no doubt...leaving me feeling nothing but fury. I hate losing any game, and the only time I do is against that damn demon. I refuse to give him the satisfaction. He can't beat me if I refuse to play. _Ciel raised the papers he'd been working on to cover his face and avoid the question that Sebastian would keep moving him into check with.

"Oh, I see," Sebastian said, any amusement leaving his features as he continued by cutting the exquisite looking cake he'd prepared, "That explains why you're such a wallflower at social engagements."

"I have too much work to do. I don't have time to waste on dancing," Ciel protested from behind his paperwork.

Sebastian snatched the papers out of his grasp, coming no more than half a foot from his face, plate of cake in hand "With all due respect, dancing is a necessary skill for a person of your position to possess in your line of work, master."

Ciel looked away as Sebastian continued. The more this carried on, the less he liked where it was going. "Social contracts are important to maintain. The world expects any noble gentlemen to possess at least rudimentary dance skills. If you turn down too many invitations simply because you cannot dance, your reputation in high society will suffer greatly," Sebastian insisted.

His butler's face so close to his own was making Ciel shift uncomfortably in his chair. "Fine, I'll do it!" Anything. Anything to make Sebastian move before Ciel's face flushed any brighter.

"Now stop the lecture," Ciel demanded, taking the cake; but, as hungry as he was, he barely looked at it. "Call in a private tutor or something. Mrs. Bright or Mrs. Rodkin should work well enough..."

"We don't have sufficient time to call in a tutor for you, my lord," Sebastian explained, checking his pocket watch. _Still very behind schedule for today, and this ball was certainly not on today's agenda. No matter. It is most certainly necessary. And if I couldn't do all of this…well, what kind of a butler would I be? _

"There's only one option," Sebastian continued, "With your permission, I will be your dance instructor."

_That cheeky Cheshire cat smirk. I should have known. Damn him. Damn him._ Ciel slammed his fists on his desk, silver fork still in hand as he protested rather audibly, "Don't be ridiculous! I'm not going to take dancing instruction from a man!" _Least of all you._ He held his hands up in objection, "Besides, do you even know how to dance?"

"The Viennese waltz is my specialty. I was a guest at Schonbrunn Palace in Vienna from time to time."

_Now the bastard is just gloating._

"Now if you would do me the honor, my lady," he continued, holding out his hand, "May I have this dance?"

Ciel's teeth grit together, "Who are you calling a lady?"

"Pardon, my lord it is merely an expression, though I must admit you are doing a fine job at playing the part."

"I said NO," Ciel continued, glaring into Sebastian, "Absolutely not. I refuse. Are there any other ways I can say it to get my point through your idiotic skull?"

"Very well then, sir, if you don't mind being the laughing stock of high society, by all means I shall leave you to your…paperwork." Sebastian turned and walked to the door.

"Wait, Sebastian," he groaned. Ciel couldn't let anything soil the reputation of the name of Phantomhive, least of all something as trivial and mundane as dancing. _Why do the well-to-do of England take such value in such a meaningless thing?_

"Can't I at least finish my cake first?" he protested, needing at least some small consolation prize if he wasn't going to win the battle. The cake was extremely moist and cooked, as always to perfection.

"Do hurry, my lord," Sebastian said with a sigh, checking his pocket watch once more, "We are terribly behind schedule as it is, and seeing as how you have never so much as attempted to dance I fear you have a great deal to learn."

"Must it be you? I scarcely believe there is no one we can call in..." Just the thought of Sebastian's hands so lewdly placed on him, pulling him close, their bodies pressed against each other. Ciel felt his stomach clench at the thought, his body growing hotter, his shorts becoming uncomfortably constrictive. He found himself thankful that he was sitting behind his desk, able to hide a blatantly visible sign of such shameful pleasure.

_His heart is beating so fast, his face flushing a bit, and a distinct detection of pheromones in the air, _Sebastian noted_, Surely he isn't…aroused? There is certainly nothing arousing about this situation. Then again, I forget how easily aroused young men can be. Yes, that's all._

"It would take far too much time for them to arrive to teach you such a lesson that the ball would have already begun before you had even learned how to dance. Honestly, my lord, you are being rather stubborn on the matter for no reason."

Sebastian couldn't help but smile in spite of himself. He did enjoy teasing his young master, even when he wasn't aware he was being teased.

_That smirk. He couldn't possibly know? Could he?_ Ciel's eyes were once again on the tea in his hand, rather than the demon's. He couldn't bear to meet his gaze if he did know such a thing. "It's humiliating. It's improper to dance with someone below one's station...a man at that. Especially someone like you. And for that matter, I will take my time, Sebastian. In case you'd forgotten, I asked you for these scones nearly two hours ago, and I've yet to try them."

"I'm afraid you haven't the time for scones, my lord. We really need to get started. You wouldn't want to keep the Lady Elizabeth waiting now would you?" Sebastian insisted as he took the plate of half eaten cake and set it back on the silver serving chart, before collecting the cup and saucer as well.

"How dare you?" Ciel hissed, irate that his meal had once again been stolen away from him. He went to stand, only to think better of it at the last second, and clench his fists at his desk.

"So you would rather show up to your own ball late because you haven't had sufficient time to prepare yourself all because you had a craving for chocolate? How terribly uncouth. I'm beginning to think that you care nothing of your position in society. I am merely trying to help you keep from disgracing yourself, my lord. Now if you'll please," Sebastian said, offering his hand to Ciel.

Ciel felt his heart stop. He couldn't get up now. In one swift motion he got up, going to put his walking stick against the wall. It wasn't something he ever cared about. It was fine resting against his desk; but, he needed an excuse...something...anything to allow for the chance to readjust himself into a less conspicuous position. He hoped that by not taking his hand and turning his back to Sebastian, made a good show that he was still angry at his butler for taking away his food and putting him in such a ridiculous position, rather than let on to any of his true emotions he wanted nothing more than to be rid of.

"I apologize for the lack of music, but it's a little hard to play violin and teach you how to waltz at the same time," Sebastian smiled, "Are you quite ready yet?"

Ciel turned to face his butler, his ever present scowl firmly intact, masking any hint of lust. "I suppose we should get it over with, then."

"Let's begin. To lead, you start the first step on your heel. Be sure to keep your hand firmly upon the lady's back," Sebastian said, placing Ciel's hand on his waist. Ciel felt something hitch in his throat again, his entire body freeze.

"When the music starts, lead with your left foot."

Ciel looked down at their feet, nervous and uncomfortable, and realizing Sebastian was moving. By the time he'd processed that fact, he'd already knocked into Sebastian's foot with his shoe. His face was crimson. He was uncoordinated. He wanted to let go. Sebastian was holding him too firmly, ignoring Ciel's misstep as though it hadn't happened at all.

"Next, we'll try a natural turn. Slide your foot forward, like this."

This time, Ciel's foot dug into Sebastian's ankle, knocking him forward, and into his butler's chest, his hips pressed for a moment against his butler's. Sebastian's own lust stirred in him and before he even realized it, he was contemplating how quickly he could bend his master over the desk quenching both of their evident insatiable desires.

As if capable of knowing such promiscuous thoughts, Ciel pulled away quickly, his breathing erratic, heart pounding, and his face stained with utter humiliation.

Sebastian sighed, suppressing such thoughts. He was a butler foremost, a tutor secondly, and neither of which allowed for such distractions.

"Your natural ability for dancing isn't so much lacking, as it is non-existent, my lord. You cannot simply cling for dear life onto your dance partner."

"You're too big, it's not working!" Ciel protested, trying to hide his embarrassment with anger, as was so often the case.

_"Sebastian, you're too big," Ciel moaned, after being bent over the desk, "There's no way you're going to fit inside of me." _

_ "Come now, Ciel, there's so much more you have to learn. Here, let me show you."_

Sebastian ripped himself away from such thoughts, his blood rushing, as he continued. "Most importantly," Sebastian said, pinching his master's cheek, forcing his mouth into a smile, "you need to wipe that gloomy look off of your face. The lady will take it as an insult. Now, let's have a smile. Pretend it's fun."

"Let me go!" Ciel yelled, slapping Sebastian's hand away.

"Master..."

"I can't smile... " he said, turning away and running his thumb gently against the blue diamond of his ring. "I forgot how...I don't know how to pretend like I'm having fun... not anymore."

_What is he thinking? I...don't like these games. He's acting incredibly odd...almost humanly erroneous. And yet..._he looked up, his heart pounding as he met Sebastian's eyes. He shook his head, clearing it of such fuzzy thoughts, offering his butler his hand once more.

"Are you just going to stand there like an idiot, or shall we continue?"

His fluttering heart, its blood flowing below his belt rather than his head, it meant nothing. He knew what had to happen. He had to learn to dance...for Elizabeth...his fiancé. Sebastian's body so carefully placed against his own was a tool, an object of education, and not lust. These touches of a tutor were from one who enjoyed seeing Ciel's pain...not of a lover who relished in the closeness. It meant nothing.

"Very well, my lord," Sebastian answered, clearing his throat, "From the top then, shall we?"

After a few more attempts, Ciel was still terrible, but it was still a great improvement from their first attempt. Sebastian checked his pocket watch again. "I suppose this will have to do, my lord. You still have a great deal of work, but you should be quite capable for tonight. I have to go make preparations for the ball, but I shall be up to dress you shortly."

Sebastian grabbed the silver serving cart and opened the door to the study.

"Sebastian," Ciel said softly, taking his seat behind the desk once more. Something in the softness of the way he called his name made Sebastian's heart clench.

"Yes, my lord?"

"Leave the scones."

"Of course, young master."

As the door closed, Ciel couldn't stand to think about it any longer after that kind of humiliation. His mind was racing, wondering what Sebastian was thinking about, right now. His scones remained untouched, and his tea was now completely cold.

Gritting his teeth in irritation, he ripped the drawer containing the music box open, grabbing only the feather from its contents before shoving it back in its place within his desk. It twirled beneath his fingertips, soft and pristine, not unlike a bird's feathers.

Warmth flooded him again, radiating from head to toe. What would it be like to be completely encased in a demon's wings? His heart pounded, clutching the feather. These thoughts, these lewd and inappropriate 'affections' were destroying him. He didn't know why, or when, or where they had started. The most important of those questions was why. Why did he lust after his butler...cling to his approval, and yearned for those "Good morning, young master, let's get you dressed" slips of the fingers?

_Slips of the fingers..._he thought, prying the window open, still clutching the feather. It was this easy. He held the feather to the wind, watching it blow gently in the breeze as if just the feather blowing somewhere far away, would take his emotions with it.

"I believe this one is the one she wants you to wear for tonight," Sebastian said, pulling out a crisp blue outfit, as he began undressing his master.

Sebastian couldn't suppress his thoughts from earlier. His lord sat on the edge of his bed, half dressed as Sebastian's hands deftly unbuttoned his shirt, pulling off one article of clothing after another. He couldn't stop thinking about laying him back on the bed, greeting his lips softly with his own.

_"Sebastian, don't stop. Don't ever leave my side." _

_ "Never…Ciel…I will never leave your side."_

_Why can't I make these incessant thoughts stop? I have duties to attend to. I haven't the time for these matters. I don't know why I can't make them go away, why he continues to plague my mind. I don't like it. How crass of me to think such things when his fiancé is here, downstairs waiting for him no less. _

_ Why is he looking at me like that?_ Ciel thought, feeling flushed again, his head a bit dizzy, and his stomach jolting with nausea. He rest his hands in his lap, lest he have a repeat of this afternoon's previous embarrassment. He scarcely dared breathe as he stole glances to his butler, trying to fathom what could be going on in the demon's mind. It was a few moments before he pulled himself together.

"Yes, she said she'd bought it in London. Though, I scarcely see what's wrong with my clothes. How ridiculous to go through so much trouble."

"I believe the phrase is that your clothes are 'not cute, not cute at all.' She really does mean well. She's just trying to take care of you, to assimilate into her role as your future wife. It is what society expects of her."

Ciel sighed, standing up so that Sebastian could dress him, "You know as well as I that there is no truth to statements about the future. Meaning well, or not, I find this fruitless." He had to admit that she'd chosen the color well. His personal tailor had always chosen darker colors for him, as was fitting...but this bright blue looked quite nice. "Meaningless like every other aspect of my life," he muttered.

A fine choice indeed from the girl. The color really brought out his eyes, well the one that still retained the color of innocence. His master's other eye bore the seal of their contract, binding them together. It was his eye, just as his soul belonged to him as well, and he found it rather beautiful.

"Do you not find any amount of comfort in these things? Your revenge will be completed soon enough, the contract complete. Do you not find joy in the present, knowing there is no future to behold?"

"Why should I? I have but one purpose. Everything that happens in my life until the contract is fulfilled is simply another game," he smirked, "Another dance. Twisting and turning to put my affairs together, and leave everyone happily ignorant in their perfect lives."

"Yes, but aren't games suppose to be fun? If you have no eternal paradise to hope for, should you not at least enjoy yourself here on Earth, while you still have time?"

_His soul, so sweet and savory, a glorious feast comparable to none other. Sometimes I forget that it is his delicacy of a soul that binds us together. I would do well to focus on the matter at hand, rather than what can never be._

"I didn't come back to _have fun_." Ciel said firmly, looking at himself in the mirror.

He would allow Lizzy her fun. It certainly wasn't her fault his soul was damned to hell, or that his life had been shattered. The girl had done nothing but try to make him happy. For that, though he would never admit it, he'd be forever in her debt. Even if he could never smile, never be happy...she still tried, when the rest of the world had given up on him...the little girl in pretty pink bows was still there. At the same time, he felt callous for allowing her hope of something that could never be...the thoughts tore away at him, even as Sebastian finished dressing him with a tiny blue hat. When he held up the ring, Ciel came back to reality.

"Leave it," he ordered, running a finger over the blue diamond ring again.

"Yes, my lord," Sebastian answered, putting the ring back in its box, and grabbing the walking stick instead, with a smile, "Best not to keep the Lady waiting. She might find some surface she has yet to cover in hearts and frills and remedy the matter."

"Remove it all the moment she leaves. I will not tolerate such tactless clutter in my mansion. Let's go," he said, standing at his door, and waiting for Sebastian to open it. "Oh, and Sebastian. I want her on her way as soon as this ball is done. Send Grell Sutcliff to escort her back to Auntie, and return to Madame Red. I think he's proven himself to be more of an inconvenience than he's worth. I'd like to have a quiet evening when this is all over, with my mansion still intact."

Sebastian's Cheshire cat smirk appeared, "Oh? Does this mean you are through punishing me?"

"I told you it was a favor to Madame Red, and not a punishment," he smirked for a moment, but let it fade to a frown as Sebastian opened the door, "I rather enjoy my morning tea and scones being uninterrupted. An inconvenience to you is amusing, but certainly not worth inconveniencing myself. I don't need any more havoc than the other three already muster. Peace and quiet would be a nice change."

"I shall see to it then, my lord," Sebastian replied, walking behind his master as they set off down the hall.

"What the hell...?" Ciel muttered, his face falling into his hand, as he watched Lizzie doing her best to attempt to make a terrified Mey-Rin look adorable. "Just leave her alone!" Ciel demanded, adamantly to Lizzie, before continuing down the stairs, Sebastian, as always, in his wake.

"Ciel! You look adorable!" Lizzie squealed, more than pleased with herself as she tackled Ciel again, spinning him around in circles, "That outfit is absolutely perfect!"

_She tries so hard to make him happy, Sebastian mused, Maybe one day she'll succeed. I think he deserves that at least. I think I would like to see him happy. Though to have a happiness and then be ripped away so prematurely, maybe he is right to close himself off and never know that which he is missing rather than having it so briefly before the end._

As Ciel spun, he caught that stupid grin on Sebastian's face again. That demon was having too much fun today.

Grabbing Ciel's hand, Lizzie glared at the ring on Ciel's thumb, "Ciel, why aren't you wearing the ring I bought you? It matches your clothing perfectly, now where did it go?"

Ciel pulled his hand away indignantly, "The ring I already have on will work."

"No!" she whined, sinking to her knees, nearly in tears "I went to so much trouble and that ring isn't cute at all! Oh, why wouldn't you wear the ring that I picked out specially for you?! You're so cruel! I just want everything to be perfect for our lovely-"

"That's not it," Ciel continued to protest, explaining gently, "Lizzie, this ring is-"

"Ha! Fooled you!" she said, snatching Ciel's ring, holding it away, adding triumphantly, "It's mine now!"

"Lizzie," Ciel growled, stepping forward.

"This is far too big for you! The one I bought will fit perfectly. Just put it on, and..."

"Give it back!" Ciel demanded, his voice dropping the false-sugar. The servants' mouths dropped open, seeing such an aggressive side of the young master towards the Lady Elizabeth. "Give me that ring, now, Elizabeth." His voice was frantic, yet firm and demanding at the same time.

"Wh-Why are you so angry at me? I just... wanted..."

Ciel's eyes narrowed and Lizzy backed away, surprised to see Ciel so...angry…

"What's wrong...?" she continued, "I just wanted to make everything look adorable, that's all...so why... why are you so angry?! I hate this ring! Take it!"

She threw it full-force to the floor, where the metal band broke, the stone chipped.

Ciel saw red, anger flooding him, as he gritted his teeth. Much like the music box, and his parent's wedding bands...this ring...was his father's.

_How dare she. How dare she be so careless, so childish. My father's ring…I'll make you pay most dearly._ He shook, not thinking before he rounded on her, his hand flying up to strike her.

_Such a spoiled, selfish child,_ Sebastian contemplated, _She deserves many things, but not this. A ring, I can repair, my master's reputation is less easily fixed._

"Master..." Sebastian said, grabbing Ciel's hand mere inches from Lizzy's terrified face, and placing his new walking stick firmly in his hand, "You forgot the walking stick we went to so much trouble to get."

Ciel's eyes widened in shock. _What was I about to do? To Elizabeth? She's...crying, afraid of me...I never wanted her to feel like this, ever, especially not because of me._

Sebastian bowed to Elizabeth, attempting to rectify his master's error, "Forgive my master, Lady Elizabeth, but that ring was something very important to him. It's a precious heirloom passed down to the head of the Phantomhive family. He's grown quite attached to it; it's truly one-of-a-kind. Please try to understand why this upset him."

Ciel barely heard his butler's words, striding over to pick up what was left of his beloved ring, staring at it in his palm. _My father had been wearing it the day he had died, just like so many Phantomhives before him. I'd always pictured I'd be wearing it when Sebastian…It's foolish really to hold on to a meaningless inanimate object. What does it really matter whether or not I am wearing a ring when Sebastian takes my soul. I'll still be dead either way. _

"I-It was that important..." Lizzie sniffled, "and I just destroyed it? Oh Ciel, please, I...Ciel..?"

Ciel walked to the window._ Foolish indeed_, he thought, as he coolly tossed the ring into the courtyard.

"Wait, what are you doing?!" Lizzie said, horrified as she ran to the window.

"It doesn't matter. It was nothing but an old ring, after all. Even without it..." he said, regaining the pride in his voice, "I'm still the head of the Phantomhives, and that won't change!"

_That fire. Such conviction. It's what I love about him, about…his soul,_ Sebastian thought, his eyes widening before his features softened into a smile.

He watched Ciel maintain such unwavering conviction, as he strode over to Elizabeth. He knew how much the ring had devastated his young master, one of few things that was actually considered precious, yet he put on such a brilliant show for them all, a flawless performance, it was like watching a Shakespearean play performance front row, center stage.

He pulled out his violin, _Such a remarkably beautiful soul, the kind of feast most demons can only dream of having a taste of. I believe no one has, nor ever will compare to this bountiful feast in store. This is as it should be. He is my prey, and I am his demon, nothing more._

"How long are you going to cry?"

"I-I'm so sorry..."

Ciel put on his hat, withdrawing a handkerchief and dabbing at her eyes, as though there were no reason at all for tears.

"Your face is a mess, completely unsuitable for a lady." His features gave way, finally softening into what seemed a genuine smile, "How could I possibly ask a lady with a runny nose and puffy eyes to dance?"

"To dance?" She'd no more uttered the words, than the smooth flow of music began from the top of the stairs. Sebastian had began playing his violin; and, Grell, had began to sing. _He's not half bad,_ Ciel thought to himself, _Apparently we've found a use for him after all._ "So then, we are agreed?" Ciel asked, offering his hand to a now blushing Lizzy, "We'll forget our cares and dance the night away. It's decided."

"Yes!"

Ciel spun Elizabeth out onto the floor, trying his best to remember the steps Sebastian had taught him. At least he hadn't stepped on Elizabeth's foot. His gaze kept darting to the top of the stairs to Sebastian playing violin. He couldn't stop thinking about the dance lesson, the feel of Sebastian's body so close to his. Why didn't he have the same feeling with Elizabeth in his arms now? She was, after all, his betrothed, who he was supposed to be with. He looked up at her, those doe eyes filled with…love. _No. Please, no. She can't love me. No one can. It's too cruel a fate, for either of us. _

They danced until Ciel's feet were sore, and Lizzie's eyes could barely stay open. Sebastian more or less had to carry her to the carriage.

"Don't worry. I'll make sure she gets home safely," Grell said, with a smile "You can count on me."

"Are you sure?" Bard teased, just as thankful to be rid of the catastrophe that was Grell Sutcliff.

"Indeed. I'm more deadly efficient than I appear."

He went to Sebastian, instead, grasping his hands in gratitude, though Sebastian seemed far less amused, "Thank you so much, Sebastian. I'm in your debt, you've taught me a lot about what it means to be a butler! They say that before a person dies, his life flashes before him. I know that when I see the light of death, this momentous evening is what will appear to me in my dying vision."

Sebastian's lack of interest took a turn, as he cocked his head to the side, "Interesting that you would say that."

"That's true. He hasn't been very good at dying so far, has he?" Mey-Rin laughed. She didn't mind Grell, too much. Like the rest of them, he seemed a bit hopeless.

"Indeed, he hasn't," Sebastian agreed, "No matter. I'm sure that you'll find something you are good at one day. Harvest time will be here before you know it, perhaps you're more of a gardener than a butler, what with the fine job you did on our shrubbery."

"I've always been deadly efficient with a pair of shears, though I actually used a chainsaw for the hedges. For fall, I plan on planting twin rows of apple trees for Madame's walkway. It will add a festive shade of red to the dreary old landscape, and I've always been rather fond of apples."

"Do make sure to take good care of the Lady Elizabeth," Sebastian reminded him, getting back on track, "Should anything happen to my master's fiancé because of your negligent hands, well, I shall hold you personally responsible and kill you. Good evening, drive safe." Sebastian smiled at Grell with this last statement.

The carriage set off for the main road before Sebastian wheeled on the other three, who cowered slightly, expecting some repercussions for the day's disasters. Strangely Sebastian's smile remained in tact. "You three."

"Y-yes, Mr. Sebastian, sir?" Mey-Rin asked.

"There are left over hor d'oeuvres in the kitchen. Go ahead and enjoy yourselves. I'll see to cleaning the manor after I've put the young master to bed."

"Did you here that?" Bard said, victoriously, "We get to eat and not clean!"

"Mr. Sebastian's so nice, yes he is!" Mey-Rin said, excitedly, blushing a bit.

"I can't wait!" Finny chimed in.

"Don't get used to it," Sebastian said, his smile fading, and his usual sternness returning to his voice, "Grell Sutcliff has merely proven that you three are not completely as useless as you seem. Besides I haven't the time for any more mistakes tonight, and the best way to ensure that is to keep you three out of the way. We are still very behind schedule. The young master should have been to bed hours ago."

As the three filed into the house, Sebastian remained in the courtyard. It was easy enough to find the ring, the silver glinting in the moonlight. He picked it up and held it in the palm of his hand. He used his teeth to take the glove off of his other hand. He simply ran his finger over the ring and it was repaired, not new of course, but just as his master had remembered it. "There now. That's better. I'm sure he'll be pleased."

"It's finally over. What a horrible day it's been," Ciel said, finally getting to drop the act. But it wasn't over. Sebastian was buttoning his nightshirt...and he felt his cheeks burning, much as he had as he had been bathed and dried.

He began to wonder if he should hire a butler to simply bathe and dress him...or if he should just learn to do so himself. Keeping Sebastian doing these tasks was seeming like a less plausible option as the days went by.

"You seemed to be enjoying yourself for a while there, my lord."

"Don't be so foolish."

"Am I the fool here?" Sebastian asked, kneeling and taking Ciel's hand in his own, "I know the importance of this ring."

Ciel's heart nearly stopped, when Sebastian took his hand. It did stop, when he realized his father's ring was back in its rightful place. He gasped, his eyes widening, and catching Sebastian's. He found he could not look away, and his heart burned yet again. It tortured him.

Sebastian's own heart clenched, feeling his master's hand in his own, seeing the look on his face at the sight of his precious heirloom returned.

Strangely, this clenching was becoming less bothersome, almost pleasurable. _Strange…very strange indeed._

"And yet you put on that act for Lady Elizabeth," Sebastian continued, "If I couldn't do this much for my master, well then, what kind of butler would I be?"

His hands were still closed around Ciel's, not really wanting to let go. "But you should take care. It is precious, this ring. It has seen so much."

"That is true..." Ciel said, as Sebastian let go of Ciel's hand and began to take off his eye patch, "It's always there. This ring has seen the deaths of many masters. My grandfather, my father, and eventually the ring will witness my own death as well. It's heard the dying screams of the Phantomhive family for generation upon generation."

Ciel's eyes closed, as his hands wove into his hair, "When I close my eyes, I hear them too. Voices echoing in my head, if I throw the ring away, I won't have to listen to them screaming anymore. At least that's what I believed. Ridiculous. Yes?"

_His mind is so troubled, undoubtedly another night of nightmares is in store. Perhaps reading some Poe will give him some small comfort, if he hasn't gotten rid of…_ "My, look how high the moon has risen. You must get some rest, sir. Don't want to make yourself ill, do you?" Sebastian asked, avoiding the question and pulling the blankets up over Ciel's shoulders. He had reached the door before Ciel worked up the courage to say his next words.

_"Sebastian. Stay with me, until I fall asleep."_

Those words…hearing them spoke consciously, sent a cold chill up Sebastian's spine. His heart beat a bit faster, still clenching in a mix of pain and pleasure.

"Goodness... are you displaying weakness in front of me now?"

Ciel stiffened for a moment, wishing he'd never asked, before he retorted, "Just a simple order."

Sebastian walked back to the bed, setting the candelabra on the nightstand. "I will stay here. I'm by your side forever, master. Until the end..."

Sebastian couldn't help but glance at the nightstand. It was tempting to casually open it and begin reading Tales and Poems of Edgar Allan Poe. No, he would keep his master's secrets, for whatever reason he wanted to keep them hidden. He walked over to the bookcase, pulling out a collection of Shakespeare's plays, sitting in the armchair near the window, as he began reading aloud.

As Ciel rolled over onto his side, closing his eyes, he reached into his pillowcase. His greedy fingers wrapped guiltily around something soft, a feather.

It hadn't been as easy as he thought to let go of such a meaningless token after all. _No, not meaningless. He's seen me as I really am, when I am at my weakest and most vulnerable state, and yet he doesn't turn away. He was there when no one else was, protecting me, even when I am fighting an imaginary battle he remains my shield, guarding me even from my own tormented mind. This feather is proof of that, and it makes it mean almost more than this ring I wear._ Even now, Ciel was unable to let go of the feather, holding it tightly, his hand still inside the pillowcase.

Sebastian couldn't see, could never know. He might die if Sebastian began mocking him, humiliating him more than he already had been.

The scent of lavender found Ciel, combining with the feel of the feather and enveloped him, making him feel like he was drowning in something that could scarcely be called anything less than…love.

His heart beat harder, just admitting such a forbidden word even to himself. As his eyelids got heavier, he was not being held down on a table or branded, nor raped or tortured. Instead he found himself, standing in a garden...filled with lavender, and delicate roses.

Sebastian wasn't wearing his tailcoat, and his sleeves were rolled up. It was the way he always looked when he bathed Ciel. He smiled at him, before wrapping his arms around Ciel. "I've got you, my love. I'll always be here to protect you. Always."

He was halfway through "Much Ado About Nothing" before he realized Ciel had fallen asleep. He was smiling, slightly, but it was the happiest he'd seen him in months. He was rather beautiful when he slept. He contemplated for a few minutes about laying beside his master, holding him in his arms like he had last night, but there were no nightmares, no panic attacks, to blame such an embrace on in case his master should wake.

Instead, he gently brushed away hair from his master's eyes. "Sleep well, my…Ciel. Sleep well Ciel. Sleep well, my Ciel." The words felt foreign on his tongue, trying to find the right emphasis.

His heart clenched again, his blood flowing fast. He couldn't help but feel that the words belonged on his tongue, and couldn't help but picture other things his tongue seemed to be made for, using it to part his Ciel's lips in a kiss.

As he closed the door to Ciel's bedroom, his words rang in his head. _Sebastian stay with me._

_This clenching in my chest, my heart beating so fast. Yet another long forsaken emotion. It has a name. Is this called love? No. Not love. Some other name, I cannot recall. Love is the most dangerous and unpredictable emotion of all. I can't afford to be so careless. Taking his soul is one thing, but there are fates worse than death, and I refused to put him in such a crossfire. Not for something so foolish as love. This bothersome clenching in my chest, it will pass._

His head fell into his palm. A low laugh escaped him at such thoughts, before he continued down the hall. "Now, I must prepare for tomorrow."


End file.
